Vacation
by megelizabethvh88
Summary: When the group goes away for a winter vacation, Michael tends to Eric as they reflect on their past relationship.
1. Chapter One

**DISCLAIMER: **This is just a warning that the story you are about to read contains mature content. It is rated so for language and strong sexuality. These are things I feel are in everyday life and because it is in everyday life, it shouldn't be excluded from what we read. Also, I do NOT own any characters (unless said otherwise) in these stories, and of course, some time lines may be different than real life. This warning was written for you, the reader, to be prepared for what your eyes may seek, and thank you for taking the time to read my stories. So if you don't like it, then get the hell out of here.

* * *

_Vacation – all I ever wanted_

_Vacation – had to get away_

_Vacation – meant to be spent alone_

_A week without you – thought I'd forget,_

_Two weeks without you and I still haven't gotten over you yet._

* Vacation – the Go-Gos *

* * *

The door to the ski lodge was flung open on a Friday morning in late 1970, and Graham and John dragged in Eric. All three were wearing winter coats, knitted sweaters or thick warm shirts, hats, gloves, tall boots, and the whole nine yards to keep themselves warm. Somehow, Eric's scarf had crept over his mouth and stifled his swears and complaints of pain, and he was starting to suffocate. "I can't believe you just did that," Neil was shaking his head behind them, lugging in suitcases. "Stepped right out of the car…"

Graham and John lowered Eric onto one of the red and brown striped couches in the sitting room. Eric's hand immediately flew up to pull the scarf from his mouth, and he sucked in his breath as his face returned to its normal color. "Fuck!" he yelled, startling several nearby families as he grabbed his ankle. "Damn, that hurts! Oh fuck!"

"Eric, shut the hell up," John tried to shush his verbal friend. "There are children here. We get it, it hurts,"

"Here, you can have some of this," Graham withdrew a small bottle of his own private stash from the pocket on the inside of his coat. Eric took the bottle eagerly and drank a few heavy gulps before stopping to catch his breath. Graham knelt on the floor in front of him and slowly, carefully pulled off the boot and thick woolen sock, ignoring Eric's demands that he go to the warmest place below the surface and die in a scalding blaze, and examined his wounded ankle.

Neil looked around the couch to lean over Graham and watch him work. "Well? He sprained it, didn't he? I _knew_ something like this would happen, except I figured it would be me. _Thank God_ it wasn't _me_, I don't know what – "

John nodded in agreement. "I can't imagine having to sit out all this whole time while the rest of us are out in the snow. Just think about it – inside, being bored and lonely – "

"Shut it, you two!" Eric said loudly, taking another drink from the bottle. "Well, Graham? _Ohh_…" he sighed. "I sprained it, didn't I?"

"Yes, Eric, in my professional opinion, I'd say that you sprained it," Graham said in his most serious voice – his doctor voice – as he turned Eric's leg. "You didn't have to go jumping out of the car that way, look at what happened. You'll have to put some ice on it and keep it up. Don't walk unless you absolutely have to."

"Ice? There is snow everywhere! Can't I just go sit out in the snow for the rest of this weekend?" Eric groaned. "Fuck! We just got here. I haven't even gotten to the ski lift yet,"

"It's really not that much fun out there. Freezing cold, windy as – " Neil tried to blow it off like it wasn't that big of a deal, but the glare he received from Eric made him grimace. "You know, I think I'll go check us in now."

A loud noise emitted from Eric, and he put his face in his hands. "This is going to be the worst weekend ever. Now I'll be hauled up in my room with ice packs, magazines, and hot tea burning my mouth. Who wants that?"

"Eric, it's really not that bad," John told him. "You would be outside in the cold and freezing yourself to death, getting snow up your nose, and you would probably have sprained your ankle anyway,"

"And I was possibly standing a chance of getting in touch with a ski bunny or two," Eric replied, and John laughed at his pathetic attitude. "Who wants to sleep with a guy with a fucked up leg?"

John shrugged. "You'd be surprised. I hear of all sorts of strange perversions that ladies have. Maybe there's one around here who has a thing for men with sprained ankles…or ones who like tall men with a limp. Or speech impediments, or mustaches…" his voice trailed off as he looked over to the check out desk, where Neil was finishing getting them into their rooms, and when finished, Neil returned with four room keys. "Come on, Graham. Let's get mopey up to his room."

Before the holiday – or _vacation_, as Terry G called it ("That's what we call it back home," he told them when the trip had been planned; John was quick to correct him) – the rooms had been decided by a bit of assuming who would bunk with who, followed by drawing straws. Graham and David were in one room, Neil and Terry J were next door, Michael and John were across the hall, and Eric and Terry G were next door to them. In order to make it up the stairs to the rooms, Graham and John were in charge of transporting the luggage and Neil was in charge of making sure that Eric made it up the stairs without falling down the stairs, or somehow killing himself. They were successful, until the very top step, where Neil kept moving without Eric, who fell forward. "_I hate you_," he told Neil, who couldn't help but laugh. "I really hate you. This is completely all your fault,"

"What time is it?" Graham was asking John as Eric and Neil caught up with them outside of room 210. "They have to be lost. We just got here and the arrival time was figured around noon, and we did _not_ get lost,"

John checked his watch. "It's almost lunchtime, Graham. And no, we did not get lost, but someone delayed us by a couple of hours because they were too busy doing…doing _something_ upstairs, and then we had to go out and stock up on your drink for the weekend,"

"They probably stopped somewhere and got directions," Neil leaned Eric up against the door frame, carefully stepping back in case his friend lost his balance as he caught his breath. "I'm sure they'll be along shortly…I hope there's dinner being served here,"

Upon entering the room, Eric was shuffled inside and was placed on the bed by the window. "See, it's not so bad," John told Eric, turning slowly to look at the room. "Very thick blankets, it's warm and cozy, and you have your own bathroom. And look out there! You have a great view of the mountain. You get to spend the next few days in this warm cozy room looking at the mountain while we're all out in the freezing cold,"

"Great, John. That's absolutely great," Eric muttered, clearly not convinced that he had the better end of the deal.

John set Eric's suitcases at the foot of the bed and went for the door. "I'm going to my room. We'll come back when we're done and go downstairs to eat. Stay put, alright?"

When the door closed, Eric rolled his eyes. "Where the hell am I going to go?" he pushed himself close to the edge of the bed and gently put his foot to the floor. His ankle flared up angrily and he cried out, pulling his foot away from the floor. "Damn it!"

* * *

It was close to an hour later when the quartet had settled into their rooms and put away their things for the weekend, and they went downstairs to find an early lunch being served in the dining hall. They filled their plates and ate at a long table in the middle of the room; as the four were finishing their food, it was then that the other half of the ski trip came in, bringing the cold and snow in on their coats and boots. "Finally!" Graham exclaimed. "Where were you?"

"Terry got us lost," David explained, opening his thick coat to relieve himself of the enclosed lower temperature. "He decided to take the wrong exit, and we almost – "

"I did not!" Terry J defended himself, completely red faced. It wasn't sure as to whether it was from the cold or from aggravation of having to drive a car full of suitcases and adult males in the snow. "Anyway, I wasn't the one readying the map, _Terry_…"

Terry G shrugged off his coat, hung it on the back of the chair next to Neil, and sat down. "I wasn't the one driving," he said as if it explained everything, and he sighed with relief at the sight of the lunch plates. "I'm starving. What did you all get for lunch?"

"It's all on the table up there," Neil gestured to the long tables with white tablecloths by the window. "Hurry up before they clear it out,"

The remaining members went to fill lunch plates and upon sitting down, Terry G began to shovel food into his mouth to extinguish his hunger pains. Once it had passed from his mouth to his stomach, he leaned on the table with his forearms and asked as seriously as possible: "So who's holding?"

Eric looked at him from across the table. "I have a couple of joints in my case, but if not you, then no one…and we were kind of hoping you were,"

"Damn it," Terry leaned back. "Jesus! Why the hell would we come up to the mountains for a weekend and not have anything to smoke? I know it's only three days total, but what the hell is wrong with all of you? I had to ride all the way up here with Jonesy, who thinks he's a stunt driver, and Mike, who talks the whole time, and David…well, actually, you were alright…but anyway, I need a smoke after that excursion. And Eric, you only have a couple of joints? _Really?_"

"Don't you 'Jesus' me, Terry. Now finish your lunch and your tantrum before you talk to me again today," Eric shot back, adjusting himself in his seat. "There is no need to start swearing at us."

Terry's mouth opened to speak again, but Michael interrupted quickly to avoid a large confrontation. "Are we going to rent skis now, or is everyone going to take a walk outside and look around the lodge,"

Neil snickered into his glass, remembering both of Eric's falling experiences. "You can do whatever, whenever you want. Eric won't be doing anything, but lying with his feet up in the air,"

"What did you do now?" Terry J demanded.

"I fell out of the car in the parking lot," Eric admitted.

"Already?" both Terrys sounded off. "But you haven't even gotten outside yet."

It had been Eric's idea for them to go away for the weekend, but it was Graham's idea for them to go skiing. They wanted to spend even just the weekend together, having fun before going off to be with their families for Christmas. As John drove to the lodge while bickering with Graham about the accurate amount of alcohol to drink before riding the ski lift (John made the silly claim that ideally _none_ was the right answer), Eric and Neil were deep in discussion about skipping out on the bunny slope and taking the more dangerous and exciting paths. They had made a plan, an actual plan, for their visit. Now, it didn't even matter, as the Terrys supported him between their scratchy knitted sweaters up the stairs, right in the eyesight of two adorable blonde skiers. "Here's our room," Eric handed the key to Terry G, who opened the door and they went inside.

"Nice room," Terry G commented, watching Eric prop himself against the wall and move quickly to the bed. "You know, for a skinny guy, you're really heavy,"

"It's because you two are so short," was the smart reply.

Michael came to the room and stood in the doorway, his own worn suitcases in hand. "Graham and David are going to go skiing. Anyone else want to go?"

Across the hallway, they heard Neil shout "Me!" from his room, and the sound of him flinging open his room door banged down the hallway. "Come on!" he was behind Michael in the hallway, pulling on his hat and coat. "After being in that car for all those hours, I'm ready! Let's go!"

Eric wiped the window sill as if he were inspecting for dust so no one could see his disgruntled look. "Want me to stay?" Michael asked when the others had left, shifting the suitcases.

"No, it's fine," Eric exhaled slowly, sounding as pathetic as he could.

"Are you sure? I'll drag you around and we can do crosswords in front of the fire downstairs," Michael suggested.

"Oh, pretty please, can we?" Eric groaned. "No, I'll stay up here and catch up on my sleep. It is winter, after all, so I'll just hibernate,"

Michael shrugged. "If you say so…we shouldn't be gone too long. I'm sure Graham will empty his bottle soon and we'll have to come back,"

"Fine," Eric lay against his pillows and crossed his arms over his eyes. In the warmth of his room as he faded into sleep, he felt himself relax, not listening to Michael leave the room. He didn't even hear the footsteps in the hall and the door re-open, and something fell on his lap, nearly crushing his manhood. "Hey!" he sat up, his hands moving quickly to protect himself.

Michael was standing in the doorway, putting on his gloves. "We had to stop somewhere and get directions, and they had some things there, little bits of entertainment. I did some of the crossword puzzles in the car, and David and I did use the cards in the car, but you can have the rest of the things so you wouldn't be too bored."

On Eric's lap were magazines rolled up together, and inside the roll were playing cards, a pack of cigarettes, a crossword puzzle booklet, a yo-yo, and sticks of gum. "A yo-yo? I'm not a child," Eric held it up. "You got these at a gas station, you said?"

"Yeah, for directions," Michael replied. "And I did smoke a couple of the cigarettes…and actually, the yo-yo is for me," he extended his hand for the toy.

Eric shook his head and glanced down into his collection of entertainment and pawed through it, as if making sure of what was there. "What's this?" he withdrew his hand and held something out to Michael, looking confused.

Michael leaned closer to look at the object in Eric's hand. "It's gum. That I got from the front desk when we came up, because I know you like – "

"But look at it," Eric interrupted, his voice fully demanding. Michael looked again and saw nothing wrong, and looked back at Eric. "It's _pepper_mint, not _spear_mint,"

"So?" Michael shrugged, then realized the error of his way. "Fuck. It's not spearmint – "

Eric nodded enthusiastically along with his words, as if encouraging him to admit his fault. "It's the only thing that makes me _feel_ better. Michael, you know this and you have since we met. How could you forget?"

"Oh my God. Fine, I'll go and get you spearmint," Michael rolled his eyes, turning towards the door. "And hand over that yo-yo. As I said, I bought it for myself,"

Eric held the objects tightly in his grasp. "Too late, they're both all mine now. Go for your walk, and I'll have the string completely tangled up by the time you get back,"

"You better not, because I know where you're sleeping for the next three nights," was the warning, which Eric rolled his eyes at.

* * *

When Michael returned from the great outdoors sometime later, he went back to Eric's room and was amused to find that he had fallen asleep again. The magazines were open across his lap and on the floor and the crossword puzzles had been filled in – well, parts of them had been. The yo-yo was nowhere in sight, a few more of the cigarettes had been smoked, and he had fallen asleep with gum in his mouth. "You better wake up. It's not good for you to be sleeping all day, as I'm assuming you did. I know how you are on car rides," Michael tossed his coat onto the other bed, then went to wake Eric by shaking his shoulder. "And you'll choke on that gum…complained about the flavor of the gum, you did…"

Eric made a murmuring noise as his eyes opened. "What are you doing back already?"

"I came back to keep you company. I didn't think that you would want to be here by yourself," Michael sat on his bed. "Unless you like staying up here by yourself, and then I can leave,"

"Are you kidding?" Eric pushed himself up, knocking over magazines and he spat his gum into his hand. "I was sound asleep. The room could have been on fire and I would have slept through it," he yawned loudly, pushing his ever growing hair out of his face. "Well, since you're here, I'm going to the bathroom, and then we can go downstairs. I'd like to see a little more of this place other than my room,"

He maneuvered himself to the edge of his bed and lowered his feet to the floor, carefully putting his weight on his good foot. Michael moved forward to grab him as Eric stood up, but he waved his friend away. "Graham said to not let you stand," Michael warned.

"I can make it to the bathroom. Do you think I'm going to wake Terry up in the middle of the night to help me piss?" Eric demanded, hobbling to the bathroom. "How is it outside?" he asked through the door.

"It's beautiful out there. The brochures don't do this place justice," Michael said. "There were lots of people out there taking walks, and we rented skis and went on the hills for awhile. Terry kept rolling around in the snow to make angels, and Terry kept asking for phone numbers _and_ room numbers. He actually got a few – "

The toilet flushed and the door opened. "Jones or Gilliam?" Eric asked, still appearing sleepy.

Michael paused to remember. "Jones first, then Gilliam,"

"It figures," Eric replied. "Now, grab my crossword puzzles and help me downstairs. I'm thirsty."

"Yes, your highness," Michael went to Eric's side.

They made it downstairs, where a blonde receptionist was directing a large group of American and British couples, who were dressed as if they were going to a dinner party. There was an even larger group of small children, whose dirty faces and exhausted parents showed signs of an interesting day. And an elderly American couple went by, admiring the Christmas décor before continuing on with their discussion of pineapple and the contents of the wife's purse. "Well, isn't this nice?" Eric said in a sarcastic tone to Michael. "Exactly as I imagined heaven to be like."

The sitting room was small and quiet, with oversized loveseats and a fireplace burning against the back wall, with a chess set in front of the window and a small TV in the corner. "Here you go," Michael deposited Eric to the loveseat; however, Eric's hand gripped his shoulder again and he started to stand back up.

"No, no, take me to the chess table," Eric pointed to the checkered board.

"How about you sit down for a minute and have a drink?" Michael pulled away and then lifted Eric's legs to stretch across the cushions. "I'll go to the kitchen to see if they have anything prepared."

As Michael left, Eric found himself distracted by the wooden Santa Claus figures along the window sill. Every place he had ever stayed at always had some sort of décor that was awkward, and it was something that one had to wonder _who decided that these would be a good idea to make_. And these figures were it – they had creepy eyes that were watching him, and he wished desperately that he could turn them around. The loveseat he was on, however, was too far away and he stretched out his arm towards them. "Turn around, you creepy fucks," he whispered to himself, struggling to avert his own eyes. He decided to concentrate on getting himself comfortable and adjust himself against the large pillows, then bent the knee of his bad leg and lifted his foot to on top of the back of the loveseat, and left his other leg comfortably stretched out. He decided that he could spend the rest of the visit on this large loveseat, but his attention went to the door when Michael re-entered the room, carrying a tray with two mugs and a plate of brightly decorated Christmas cookies. "Where did you get those?" Eric's eyes opened at the sight of food when his stomach decided how hungry he was.

Michael handed the tray to Eric and sat on the loveseat, stretching his legs over the cushions in the same fashion as Eric, only on the other side. He then reached for the cookies and put at a balancing point on their legs and leaned back against the armrest. "They had quite a few made up for the family with all those children, but the children will be leaving today. So the kitchen is giving cookies to whoever wants them,"

He reached for one, but Eric grabbed it up quickly without realizing Michael was going to eat it. "Thanks for bringing me the stuff earlier. I had no idea what I was going to do all afternoon," Eric said through a mouthful of snowman shaped cookies.

"It looks like you entertained yourself completely," was the reply. "Reading, smoking, napping…"

"Well, it's not like I could join in on the snowball fights and ski lifts anyway. I'm stuck on this loveseat or my bed for the rest of the trip," Eric's voice began to whine, as if he was trying to make his situation more pitiable than it was. "And I'll be _lonely_."

"_Lonely_…" Michael rolled his eyes. "You have such a pathetic life, don't you? What about all these snow bunnies you keep talking about having around you?"

They both went for the cookies again. "That's the thing, Michael, you have to be in the snow to be near the snow bunnies," Eric said through a mouthful. "Obviously, there will be no attractive girls on our floor level or anywhere near my room. Neil will probably get all the pretty girls this weekend,"

"Not that it matters, right?" Michael asked and drank from his mug, his eyes peering over the top of the rim.

Eric copied his movement and set his own mug down carefully on the table, pausing to think of the words he would say. "It doesn't matter," he agreed. "Because I'm at this great ski lodge for the weekend with my friends…and with you…"

"And with me," Michael agreed, his voice monotone. "I'm sure you didn't think that we'd be trapped so close together again,"

"It was bound to happen, considering we all planned on staying at the same place when we came up here," Eric replied. They became quiet as a couple moved past the doorway, dressed as warmly as possible and the girl's giggling faded from the room as they went up the stairs. "Are you alright with this weekend?" he asked in a particularly questioning tone.

Michael shook his head at the question, not as an answer; it was more out of disbelief. "Not really. It feels like it's too soon for us to be so close together, but I'll have to make do until we all go back home. You were the one who planned this whole thing, and everyone else agreed with the plan. Wouldn't everyone have found it strange had I suddenly decided to not go along?"

"They might have, but it doesn't matter what everyone thinks," Eric told him. "We agreed on that a long time ago. That's why when we were together, we told them, and we did whatever we wanted no matter who was around,"

"Do you think they were surprised when they found out we weren't seeing each other anymore?"

"Does it matter? I don't think they cared either way, as long as we showed up to film on time and did our work right, we could fuck anyone who bent over in front of us,"

"You're far too crude at times."

"Me? Oh, Mikey, don't even try that. I've read some of those sketches you write on the side. If anyone of us is the dirty mouth pervert, it's you. And if I'm too crude and disgusting, then why are you up here with me and not out with the other boys?"

Eric lit a cigarette, looking curiously at Michael over the flame, who explained his appearance. "Because I don't like you to feel like you're missing out on anything. I know how you get when you're not the center of attention…you do become lonely,"

The lighter clicked off and Eric exhaled a puff of smoke in Michael's direction. "I wouldn't be so lonely if I could come out with you all on the slopes with all of you. I don't think I can nap all day for the next few days…well, I could, but it would throw off my sleeping schedule when we get back and I can't have that happening,"

"Are you joking? You can sleep anywhere, any time,"

"That I can, but I think it's all starting to catch up with me, and now I'm too tired. Too much sleep isn't good for you," Eric stretched his arms over his head as far as they would go, and Michael could see the bottom of his sweater rise up, just enough for him to see the light colored forest of body hair that was on his lower stomach. When it was covered again, Michael turned his eyes away and acted as if he was looking out the window to the snow. There was supposed to be another snowfall that night, a fresh blanket to glide over in the morning, as if there wasn't already enough snow. "But I guess I'll be alright," Eric was saying, acting as if he was offended by the absence of his friends. "Even though I'd rather be outside with the rest of you lot,"

He did look rather pathetic, and Michael smiled at him being so weak. _Good_, he thought to himself. "What do you want us to do about it? You were the one who fell and hurt yourself,"

Eric looked offended. "What, you think I did this to myself on purpose? Yes, Michael, I went to step out of the car and I slipped on ice and twisted my ankle on purpose, just so I could lounge on this loveseat or on my bed for the whole visit. I'm sure that I'll be all healed up just in time for everyone to bring down the suitcases and we'll all drive home, and you all will be talking about how great of a time you had. And all I can talk about is how my arse fell asleep from sitting on it for about four days,"

"Your poor arse," Michael giggled, then became as serious as he could manage. "I bet it's never been sore in your entire life,"

"Oh, hush now," Eric grinned back, nudging Michael with his foot. "Although you're right, it has been worse…remember how we use to – "

Michael interrupted by clearing his throat. "We agreed not to reminisce about the times we had sex…or any romantic times between you and me,"

"You're right, you're right…we just got to talking – " he paused when Michael made a shushing noise. "Well, then what would you like to talk about?"

"I don't know," Michael shrugged.

They were quiet then, taking casual glances around the room and out the window. "Are you seeing anyone else?" Eric asked; he could see Michael was going to protest the topic. "We're not talking about us, we're talking about you and that is different. So are you seeing anyone else?"

Michael shook his head. "I'm not seeing anyone else, and I don't think I will be for awhile,"

"Oh. Me either," Eric agreed in a not caring voice.

"What do you think of a chess game?" Michael asked, trying to distract Eric from discussing their past relationship. It would be better if it didn't come up anymore.

Eric shrugged. "That sounds alright. We haven't played in a long time. I feel like the last time was ages ago…it was during the fall actually, because we were suppose to get together and read sketches and you were sick and in such a horrid mood, and then both Graham and Terry were both under the weather. So we all ended up staying at home and it was very cold outside, and you and I ate soup and played chess in blankets on – "

Michael had gotten off the loveseat and was lifting Eric up, but stopped when the story was going on and gave Eric a look when he realized where it was going. "We _agreed_, Eric,"

"Right, right. I won't say anything else," Eric made a 'hurry up' motion with his hand, and Michael continued to help him up and move him over to the chess table. "But you have to admit that was a very nice day we spent together. I've always liked cold weather, but that day was particularly pleasant,"

"Here you are," Michael ignored Eric's words and shifted his friend into the chair at the chess table.

**To Be Continued...**


	2. Chapter Two

That was when one of the employees came into the doorway to look around the room, holding onto the wooden doorframe for support as he leaned in, his eyes searching as if he was looking for someone. "Are you two gentlemen doing alright in here?" he asked them.

"Yes, we're alright," Michael said as he walked back around the loveseat to collect the mugs, the plate of cookies, and the crossword puzzles.

"You've got a pen with you, don't you?" the employee let go of the doorframe and stepped closer into the room. "Could I borrow it for a moment? I just need it to sign a few papers. The girl up front took off with mine when she went upstairs to assist a guest, and I don't have any others. I'll bring the pen back when she comes back down,"

Michael pulled the pen out from between the pages and handed it to the employee. "There you are,"

"Thank you," the employee took and it. He smiled politely at them, but Eric noticed that the smile was aimed more at Michael, and the gaze of the man lingered for a moment too long. Michael had seen it too, and he also smiled back at the man – equally politely, not offering up anything.

It didn't make Eric feel uncomfortable…no, it was…_annoyed_? He shook the emotion away as the man left the room, and he turned his attention back to the chessboard before him. "When did the rest say they would be coming back?" he asked nonchalantly, pulling out a drawer under the table that held all the chess pieces.

Michael shrugged. "Whenever they are close to being frozen…it's been awhile,"

"Lucky bastards, the lot of you," Eric complained of his ankle again.

"It is your own fault, you know,"

"Oh, you don't even know, you weren't there. Maybe _Neil_ was too excited to get out of the car and pushed me – "

"Neil would _not_ do something like that,"

"You don't know him as well I do, so you don't know if he's capable of. When he gets excited, he gets a little _too_ pushy and he starts – "

"Eric, do you really expect me to believe that Neil would be so excited about arriving at the lodge that he pushed you out of the car and you fell and that's why you twisted your ankle?"

"…Well, it sounds better than 'I fell out of the car',"

"Oh, honestly, Eric, just start the game and forget I even mentioned it."

Eric did as he was told and began setting up the game; Michael sat back in his chair and sighed impatiently at the nonsense he had heard, remember that Eric was good at coming up with tall tales. As the pieces were put in place and they were preparing to play, the employee returned and handed the pen back to Michael. "I'm sorry to bother you like that. She is always running off with my pens," he told them.

"It's fine," Michael said.

Once again, the employee had a smile that went with his gaze that was focused on Michael, and Eric found himself with that annoyed feeling washing over him. He didn't know why it made him feel that way to see someone else looking at his ex-lover…well, he did know, as their break up was only a few weeks ago. But it was a mutual agreement for them to not see each other anymore like that – somewhat mutual, anyway. They both agreed that they were good enough friends that they could stop being involved and stay good friends, that it had been a purely sexual attraction, as well as one to each other's personalities, that brought them together. It had been a quick and easy decision, and they went on separate paths, and the next time they saw each other, it was as if nothing unusual had happened between them. But now, Eric realized that the twinge of annoyance was actually a hint of jealousy. He liked when people looked at him, but then, who _wouldn't_ look at Michael? And this man was _really_ looking at him – "Are all the rooms booked up this weekend?" Eric tried to distract himself.

"No more than usual. We get mostly couples looking for a getaway before Christmas, not too many groups," the employee explained. "Are you two on a holiday together?"

"We're here with friends, the rest are all out for a walk," Michael explained, then gestured to Eric. "Someone here got too excited getting out the car – "

Using his good foot, Eric kicked Michael in the leg playfully. Michael grinned at the gesture, whispering '_Ow_!' and he laughed at Eric's misfortune. The employee seemed to understand what Michael was going to say and attempted to laugh as well, although he wasn't really in on the 'joke'. "Well, I'll leave you two alone then. Thanks again for the pen…if you need anything, I'll be at the front desk,"

Again, he was talking to Michael, not both him _and_ Eric. The jealousy was still present, but the annoyance was full on. _Why do we have so many emotions? They always get in the way_, Eric thought. "Thanks, but I'm sure we'll be fine," he said in a dismissive tone. "I'm sure you have a lot of work to do,"

"Oh, yes, I have so much going on while everyone else is out in the snow," the man replied sarcastically, trying to make a joke out of it. "I can't possibly step away from the front desk and have a rest because the whole place would fall apart without me,"

"Exactly, so you should probably get back. Here, take the pen with you," Eric leaned forward to snatch the pen out of Michael's grasp and he tossed it back towards the doorway, ignoring the look of confusion and shock that was combined on Michael's face. "Thank you for your hospitality."

The man gave him a puzzled look, and sent it to Michael who shrugged slightly. "Um…well, excuse me then," he dismissed himself, and stomped off; he didn't even pause to pick up the pen off the floor.

Michael's expression twisted more with confusion as he looked to Eric. "What was that about?"

Eric wasn't sure how to explain it, all he knew was that he no longer felt annoyed; in fact, he felt pleased with himself, but a little silly for his behavior in front of Michael. "I just didn't like him," he replied simply. "We're trying to have a nice conversation and he's in here trying to undress you with his eyes,"

"He was doing no such thing," Michael rolled his own eyes, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Not like you've never done that to me before,"

"That's different because I only did that when we were together," Eric said; Michael gave him a look of disbelief. "Well, sometimes it was before we were, but that was because I knew we were going to get together,"

"Oh, good grief," Michael complained. "You just worry about me still lugging you around after that tantrum you just threw there, and not about who wants to see me naked. That's none of your concern anymore,"

"And why not? We're still friends, Mike, and I do still care about you," Eric protested. "I just want to make sure you're not getting hurt by anyone else,"

"Eric, I can take care of myself, I am an adult. I appreciate that you care so much, but I don't want you to worry about me anymore," Michael told him. His eyes glanced towards the window, then back to the plate between them. "Do you want anything else?"

Eric shrugged. "I could eat something else. You know I like cookies and all that, but I think…I think that warm bacon butties sound delicious about now,"

"Yes, I'm sure that we could find someone to make you a bacon buttie after lunchtime," Michael rolled his eyes and with a groan, he pushed himself out of the chair and to his feet. "I'll go see what I can find,"

Michael went off to the front desk, where the female employee had replaced the male employee. It was probably a good thing, because he couldn't imagine them getting good service is the man was there. After the way Eric had acted – "There you are," Neil's voice spoke to him. Michael looked towards the door as his friend came in, his cheeks red and his eyes watering from the cold. "We were all wondering where you had gone off to,"

"I just came in to keep Eric company. We started talking and I brought him downstairs and now he wants food."

"Well, you were been outside for awhile. I suppose you did want to come back in and warm up. But don't spend too much time inside," Neil told him. "You need to make tomorrow your full day outside before we all go back to our boring homes, and then off to our parents' for Christmas. Do your parents still get presents for you and your sister?"

Michael shook his head. "No, we don't ask for them anymore. I'm twenty-seven, Neil, so I really don't need my parents to buy me Christmas presents. Anyway, what would I ask for?"

Neil shrugged, then looked towards the sitting room where Eric was sitting at the chess set, not paying any attention to them. "I take it that Eric isn't going with you?"

"No, he's not. I don't think he was planning on going with me anyhow,"

"Why not? He _was_ your partner. I think he should go with you,"

"I don't know," Michael found himself becoming uncomfortable with the subject. "My parents weren't too comfortable with the idea of him and I being together, so I shouldn't bring him around and practically shove him in their faces, wave him around in their eyesight. I know that they wouldn't let us sleep in the same bed, where would he sleep? On the floor in the kitchen like a stray dog?"

"That sort of thing shouldn't matter just because your parents don't like it,"

"I remember when we told them…my parents were so shocked they didn't say anything," Michael spoke slowly, remembering the day, sometime ago. "Finally, my mother gets out of the chair and says they will be leaving. She kisses me goodbye and then stops to look at Eric, and she fixes his collar. Then she starts messing with his hair – parting it differently, finger combing it strangely, and then she says he has very nice hair and he's not _too_ bad looking, and she left…my dad said goodbye to us…they couldn't believe it, completely in shock. And the next day, they called me and asked me what kind of joke I was trying to pull on them,"

"Brave blokes, you two are. I couldn't even think of telling my parents about that sort of thing," Neil said, shaking his head at the image of his parents standing in front of him, a faceless man at his side. He then saw what appeared to be a wave of negativity wash over Michael's face, and he quickly spoke to cheer him up. "Never mind that, you need a distraction. What about any other men here?"

Michael shook his own head. "No, I don't need to go with any other men right now,"

Neil extended his arm in front of him, moving it to pan over the room, towards the door and the windows, where they could see people outside. "Well, if you ever wondered, other men do notice you, as you are not a complete troll. Or are you planning on going back to the ladies?"

"…I don't know," Michael admitted. "And I never thought of myself as a troll, Neil, but thank you for clearing that up. Now I know that I am _somewhat_ attractive – "

"You should have always thought you were attractive. Eric doesn't like to have unattractive partners," Neil told him. "He use to always say how handsome he thought you were,"

"What we had going on wasn't enough, since we decided he would rather be 'just friends' with me. I still don't understand why, I always thought that we were fine…then it happened…it's been so hard the past few weeks to be away from him, and not…touch him…but I'm over it all. I'm fine,"

Somehow, Neil was able to see that Michael wasn't being completely honest with him, and he wondered if any of the others had noticed. "Well, I know you still love him. You can't hide that, and I know that you miss him,"

"It's…Neil, it's not like that anymore," Michael tried to say it so confidently, but it was difficult with the memory of his shower still lingered on the edge of his mind. He just couldn't stop – and then he realized he didn't deny missing, wanting, _still_ loving Eric.

* * *

The next day, Terry assisted Eric to the bathroom, where he sat in the bathtub and bathed himself. Then, he got himself out, sat on the closed toilet to dry and dress himself in overalls and a long sleeved shirt. The two Terrys took him downstairs, once again held captive between their itchy sweaters, and they all ate breakfast together. As the eight men sat around the table, discussing plans for the day, Michael kept looking to the end of the table, where Eric was sitting. He watched him drink coffee, put salt and pepper on his eggs, talk to John and Terry G about their work. Somehow, they always managed to talk about sketches and the studio, no matter what the subject was, it always went back to those things. "Do you want me to stay with you today, Eric?" Neil could be heard asking from across the table.

Eric shook his head. "No, I'll be fine by myself today. I think I'll stay in the sitting room and watch television," he continued eating, not seeing Michael look down the table at him when he answered the question.

"If you're sure…" Neil reached for the toast.

"I'm sure," Eric assured him. "I'll just be alone today."

Neil gave him a look. "Oh, I'm sure it wouldn't be so bad if you had Michael to keep you company like when he sat with you yesterday. Was it nice to play chess together again?"

Everyone was starting to quiet down, as they could hear the conversation taking place. Eric's eyes then went down to the end of the table to Michael, who had been watching them but he turned back to his plate when he saw Eric looking at him. "Shut it, Neil. We just talked, nothing more,"

His friend had a smile on his face that was slightly condescending, not quite enough to match with Eric's own smile. "If you're sure…" he repeated himself, and continued eating his breakfast.

At the end of the table, Graham nudged Michael's side. "Are you two fucking again?" he asked his friend.

"No, Graham, we're not fucking," Michael replied under his breath in quick, heavy words.

"Well, here is a condom if you are going to," Graham reached into his pocket, as he was always prepared, and placed a sealed condom packet on the top piece of toast on Michael's plate.

Michael started to protest, but David stepped into the conversation. "Leave them alone, Graham. We're all just here to have a nice weekend, not start any arguments,"

"David, I'm just offering them – " Graham continued, and Michael was blushing slightly as his sex life was being laid out on the table, discussed during breakfast. He glanced towards Eric, who was also very interested in his plate, while everyone else went on with their topics of choice. Michael decided then – and he had decided this before they got in the cars to drive to the lodge, had decided this when the idea of the _vacation_ was conceived – that this was going to be a very long, very difficult adventure. Breakfast couldn't be over soon enough, as he was ready to go enjoy the crisp clean snow as his skis made a gentle whispering sound, gliding over it easily.

Back in his room, Eric filled in his crossword puzzle in the booklet, a look of concentration on his face as he filled in the spaces, the book balanced on his thigh. He didn't even notice the other members of the troupe standing in the hallway after breakfast; the sound of their voices was loud outside his open door. The last of the doors closed and they all started to leave; Michael walked by, his thick coat in his hand, and he passed Eric's door, then went back to say goodbye. "We're going outside now," Michael announced.

"Alright. Have fun," Eric replied distractedly, writing in letters.

"Do you need me to get you anything?" Michael asked.

Eric shook his head, casually looking at Michael over the top of the book. "I think I'm alright. Are any of you coming back for lunch?"

Michael shrugged. "Possibly,"

Eric didn't seem to notice, as he looked back to his puzzle. "Well, go on then. Have a nice time,"

The pencil scratched across the paper, and continued writing. Michael turned away and then he realized how annoyed he was by Eric's nonchalant way of speaking. "I will have a nice time," he had turned back around, standing very straight and rigid. "I will have a _great_ time skiing. I don't need your permission to do so, Eric, as I had already decided I will enjoy myself. So…so there,"

Michael had no idea what had come over him, or where this aggressive energy had come from. All of a sudden, he felt a line of adrenaline shake through him like a tremor, all because of Eric being so casual. And he noticed Eric looking at him once again over the pages of the booklet, the look on nonchalance still on his face. "You know that you don't have to go outside, if you don't want to," Eric told him, almost in a lecturing tone. "You can just stay in your room. Go find two cans and some string, and we can play telephone,"

A laugh erupted from Michael, imagining them sitting in their beds in separate rooms, clothed in their pajamas with soup cans to their ears, giggling. What would they talk about? Of course, Eric would probably want to joke and talk about some escapade of sex (a sexcapade) that they had once, and Michael would have to remind him that they weren't supposed to talk about that. "No, I'm going outside," he dismissed the idea from his mind. "I need to get all of this adrenaline out of my body. It's going to be at least a year before I can come back, so I need to do it all today,"

Eric smiled into his booklet. "I can think of another way to get adrenaline out of your body," he said quietly, but Michael still heard him.

And it made a nervous feeling shake over him. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, expecting some smart response. What else would he expect from Eric?

"Oh, I don't think I can say. It might pertain to our past romantic relationship," Eric sighed, acting as if he didn't care. He filled in the last word in the puzzle, then turned to the one on the back page and continued to act as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't made that sly comment.

Michael felt hot, from his face to his chest to his crotch and up his back. He wasn't sure if it was from being dressed in such thick clothing or from Eric's words that hinted at the past, but he was _so_ warm. "I'm going outside now," he said, and he turned away and closed the door and didn't look back. He had to get out of there, he had to leave before something happened, before Eric hinted again that they had been naked together in bed more than once, and that they could be _again_. Michael needed a distraction, and the cold winter air would provide him with enough of a distraction that the blood would leave his penis.

Eric laid down his puzzle and turned himself over onto his knees to sit up to lean against the window sill, which was right over his bed, and he found himself more interested in the outdoors than the indoors. He pressed his face against the icy cold window; despite the temperature, it was absolutely beautiful outside and he dreaded that he was held captive indoors. He rested his arms on the window sill and gazed out at the snow that was falling off the roof with the wind. "I wish I was out there," he said to himself, letting his eyes search the faces of the guests in the yard –

There were his friends. He could see Graham standing very close to David, a flask in his hand and he sipped from it; Neil and John were both eyeing the same girl, in a pink sweater with long brown hair; Michael was standing with both Terrys, all three laughing about something together. And what would Eric be doing if he was down there? He didn't even know, because it didn't matter because he was in the room on the second floor, looking at them through the window where snow was pilling up on the windowsill. And that's when he got an idea – "Neil, you go the last girl, which was the one with the long black hair yesterday," John was saying. "So this one is my turn, and I want this one in the pink sweater with brown hair,"

"You have to make this difficult, don't you? There isn't just _one_ specific hair color you prefer women to have?" Neil asked in a whining tone. "At least Eric just liked blondes…blonde girls, at least. You, however, have to be interested in _variety_,"

"Well, we could flip a coin over her," John suggested. "Does anyone have any change? I call heads,"

Michael rolled his eyes. "Honestly, not again – are you two twelve? Flipping coins over girls, that's – "

Graham interrupted. "Oh, Michael, let them. I like to see how this goes. One time, I knew a man who lost and he decided to get into a _fist fight_ with the other man. Not that it was worth it or anything, because that girl was _not_ pretty. Actually, she was kind of ugly," he looked towards the girl in the pink sweater, who was retying her scarf. "This one is alright…if you like big chins,"

"She doesn't have that big of a chin," John protested, and was going to continue saying something else, except for something hit him in the back of the head. Something that was about the size of a fist, and it was cold and wet; it broke open against his skull and chunks of snow powdered over his hair. "…_The fuck_?" he turned around quickly, startled. "What the fuck was that?"

"You just got hit with a snowball. Now who would do that?" Neil laughed at John's expense. Suddenly, another one came flying in their direction, and hit Neil directly in the chest. "Hey!" he cried out and his hands flew up to cover the powdery snow splattered over his coat. "_WHAT THE FUCK_?"

John laughed at him now, and it led everyone else into a chorus of giggles; another snowball came into the circle, but it crashed into the snow at their feet. "Is there a group of children somewhere?" David looked around. "Who is attacking us? And the better question is why…"

"Maybe it's one of the fifty girls that Terry was trying to fuck on the ski lift yesterday," Graham suggested, sending an intrigued look to Terry G, who shrugged nonchalantly.

They all looked around, trying to see if anyone was hiding behind a tree or car or group of people, but there was no one insight – "Damn it!" Terry J stepped back, wiping particles of a snowball off his pant leg. He looked up then, a look of irritation in his eyes. "Who is doing that?"

"Someone's laughing!" Michael announced when he heard the sound of snickers. But there was no one in sight…yet it sounded as if it was coming from overhead. So he tilted his head upward towards the windows, searching for an attacker, and then he saw the open window where there were snowballs lined up. "Look up there," he gestured; everyone's head tilted back for their eyes to look up.

"Hey!" John shouted towards the window. "What do you doing think you're doing up there? Throwing snowballs at innocent people, this isn't a fair fight! We're not prepared!"

A moment passed, then a pair of hands with long thin fingers gripped the window sill and pulled someone forward, and Eric was propping himself up in the window. "Good morning, boys. Having fun down there?"

Terry J groaned. "Eric, what are you doing?"

"Just because I can't come out there with you lot doesn't mean that I can't have fun too," Eric defended himself, then grabbed up another snowball and chucked it down at his friends. It wasn't a very well made one and it broke open mid-air, sprinkling his friends with chunks of snow. "What's wrong with a friendly fight?"

"A friendly fight?" Graham repeated. "We're down here, unarmed, while you're practically on top of us, covering us in…white…stuff. Oh, _my_, that sounded _so_ dirty,"

Neil was laughing and John rolling his eyes. "We're going to leave now, we have a lot of ground to cover before it gets dark out," John told Eric.

"Oh, come on," Eric groaned. "I'm all alone up here, like the princess in the tower. Do you really expect me to spend the day sleeping and wanking off? What about when I get hungry?"

"Order room service," David suggested.

Eric rolled his own eyes then, and settled his elbows on the window, his chin his hands, and he did look positively miserable and genuinely disappointed. This whole thing had been his idea, and now he had to sit out on the sidelines. How unfair was that! Seeing him, indeed trapped like a princess in a tower, Michael felt sympathetic towards the situation. "Let's help him out," he said to the group.

"Help him out how?" Terry G asked.

There was a sled nearby, one that was made from wood, not some plastic shit, and belonged to the lodge, with the name carved into it; sparks went off in Michael's head. "John, you go get the sled," he gestured to it. "Neil, Graham…let's go get Eric."

From the window, Eric could see Michael, Neil, and Graham leave the group, but he couldn't figure out where they were going. He could see John going towards some flat wood thing and he couldn't understand what it was. "What are they doing down there?" he asked himself quietly, then raised his voice to the others. "Where are they off to?"

"You better watch yourself," David warned him.

"Why?" Eric received his answer a few moments later, when three pairs of footsteps thundered into his room; Michael, Neil, and Graham entered. "What are you doing in here?" Eric asked, a pleased grin came across his face. The rush of his friends bursting in gave him a jolt of adrenaline, a burst of excitement that moved through him and he forgot about feeling lonely.

None of them answered him directly. "Grab his coat," Michael pointed to it, hung over the chair in the corner; Neil grabbed it and went to Eric to clothe him. "And Graham – get his snow boots,"

Eric didn't fight them as his friends dressed him and prepared him for outdoor activities. "What are you all up to?" Eric asked Michael, who was obviously the leader of this plan with his directing.

"We're taking you outside," Michael explained. "You complained so much about being lonely yesterday and I know that you not being the center of attention is driving you mad. So get your boots on, because we're taking you outside,"

"Did you fucking tie your laces in a knot?" Graham demanded, struggling to untie Eric's bootlaces. "Why would you tie them in a knot? Why not a bow?"

"So they don't come untied at random moments. Just give them to me," Eric reached for his shoes and untied the knot, then handed them back. "But I can't walk around, you know, my leg is still bad,"

Neil pushed him back a little to properly zip up his coat, narrowly missing his chin. "There's a sled downstairs that Michael found. Come on, we'll pull you around and leave you in a snow drift,"

"How kind of you," Eric replied in a monotone voice. With a quiet sigh, he shifted himself to the edge of the bed. I guess I can handle a few hours in the fresh air,"

His shoes were on and tied, and Graham stood up to help Eric to his feet. "There's a good boy. Let's go outside."

**To Be Continued...**


	3. Chapter Three

Graham assisted Eric through the bedroom door and the hallway, then Neil came to aid them down the stairs. Michael held the door open and he sent a cheerful smile to Eric as he passed. The quartet went to where the group had been standing – now, only David was left. He was standing alone, his eyes looking around anxiously. "Hey, David! Where are the others?" Neil called.

David shrugged. "I have no idea where they went. They all just walked off,"

But there was something about the look in his eye, it was shifting around quickly, very flighty. And the tone of his voice was a little higher than normal, as if caught doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing. And the corners of his mouth were turning up – "David…" Michael started to say in a warning tone, realizing that something was –

"_Ambush_!" a voice cried out, easily recognized as John's, and from behind them, against the wall of the lodge, jumped out the remaining members of the team. They all had the most excited, playful looks on their faces and it was seen then that they had snowballs in their grasp. "_Revenge_!" John cried out once more. Immediately, they began to pelt their friends with their ammo, the sound of their laughter and the squeals of protests from their friends. But it was all in good fun, easily known to them; anyone who walked by could see four men stuffing snow down the coats of four other men, and could see their faces turning from flesh colored to pink to red from the cold and their widened smiles. And when the ammo was empty, it was refilled with the small supply that was built up against the wall; when that was gone, the game was over and everyone was either lying in the snow or bent over, holding their knees in support from laughing so hard.

"Look at all of you…your faces…" Neil panted between giggles from the snowy ground. "And John…you were so serious…_an attack_ – "

"Well, it is only fair," John straightened himself, dusting snow off of himself and adjusting his coat. "I thought Eric might enjoy it anyway, an initiation to our winter vacation,"

Terry G put his hands on his hips and shook his head, making a tsking noise. "_Now_ you call if a vacation. After all that teasing, saying I was wrong for calling it that,"

John started to respond, but Terry J interrupted then. "Come on, you two, stop bantering and let's go to the lifts already. It will be nighttime if we keep standing around here,"

Michael looked to Eric, who was still being supported by Neil. "You want to go on the lift?"

"You do realize I can't ski, don't you?"

"You don't have to. Go ahead and ride the lift around the slopes for awhile," Michael suggested. "We didn't bring you out here for a quick snow fight and to leave you out here to freeze. Come on the slopes with Neil and I,"

Eric rolled his eyes and shifted himself to be better supported by Neil. "Yes, I'll go, and then sit on the lift all day because you'll have forgotten about me and I won't be able to get off of it. What a brilliant plan!"

It was Michael's turn to roll his eyes, although he was smiling. "We'll help you off of it. Get on the sled already,"

Michael was so insistent, and it pleased Eric to know how much Michael wanted him to have a good time. So he did as he was told when Terry J pulled over the sled, and Neil lowered him slowly to the wooden seat. Both Terrys took hold of the rope and on the count of three ("One, two, _three_! And we're off!" Terry J called out), they took off at a fast pace and pulled him down the path; the remaining five followed.

At the ski lift, they all waited in line, as there were quite a few people already planning on taking the lift. As a few people were placed on their lift and went up in the air, Neil and Michael picked Eric up onto his good foot. "Does he really need to be going on the lift?" the man who was running the switches asked, eying Eric's injured form.

Michael glared back at him defensively. "Yes, he needs to be going on this with us. We've planned this for weeks and just because he hurt himself in the parking lot, that does not mean he should not be allowed to go,"

The man shrugged. "Alright, that's fine. I just wanted to ask," he paused to smoke his cigarette, then nodded towards Michael. "Come here for a moment, will you?"

Neil and Eric shrugged when Michael looked to them, and he went to the man, who leaned close to him and whispered in his ear. After a few moments, a brief smile appeared on Michael's face, and Eric recognized the tone of the smile – the man was hitting on Michael. _Another one_? Eric thought to himself and he felt that emotion of annoyance rolling back over him, so he turned to Neil to distract himself. "Are you sure you want me on there?" Eric asked, watching as John, Graham, and David waited for their seat coming up. "I can just crawl back to the room, I don't want to be in the way – "

"Don't even think about it," Neil told him as the Terrys seated themselves on their lift. "You're going on the ski lift with us, and that is final,"

Michael came back to them then, trying to disguise the smile on his face. "Sorry about that," he said quietly.

"What did he want?" Eric asked, also trying to disguise himself.

"Oh…nothing, nothing at all," Michael shook his head.

The seat hit the back of their legs, scooping them up, and it sent a shock down to Eric's wounded ankle. But he was able to ignore it as they were lifted into the air, and carried away. "Hold onto the rail, don't slide out," Neil pulled the bar down over their laps. He grinned at his friends then, and a thrilled laugh came out. "I love this! I love being up in the air like this! The outside is amazing."

"Especially when it's as cold as it is outside, right?" Eric asked, sitting in the middle of the two.

Neil shrugged. "Once I get down on the ground and start moving, then it's not so bad,"

Michael nudged Eric's arm with his elbow. "Glad you came up here with us?"

"On the lift or to the hotel?"

"You know what I mean. On the lift,"

"It's alright. The scenery is nice…wish my leg wasn't messed up. We could go skating,"

Michael shook his head. "I can't skate,"

"I'll go skate with you," Neil offered. "And we can pull Michael around on the sled,"

"I wouldn't trust you two. You would probably put me in the middle of the ice and leave me there,"

His friends exchanged a grin. "Michael, we would never do that," Eric teased him.

The lift continued moving over the snow, carrying them higher up the hills. Looking down, they could see their friends gliding over the lines created by the other skiers, could hear the people at the top of the upcoming hill – "Hang on a moment," Neil leaned forward to look at the people ahead. "Hey! It's that girl from earlier!"

"What girl?" Eric also leaned forward to look.

"The girl from earlier. Remember her, Mike?" Neil pointed. "Pink sweater, long dark hair…and there goes John, he completely missed her," he grabbed the bar and lifted it, the excited grin back on his face.

Michael grabbed for it. "Wait, you can't just leap off of the lift when we're not even at the hill,"

Neil shook his head. "I seem to forget that you're not the adventurous type,"

"I'm just not interested in breaking my leg," Michael replied. "But you go right ahead and see where you end up,"

His words fell on deaf ears, as Neil took the moment in his grasp and he winked at his friends before jumping onto the hill. "Being the romantic as usual," Eric looked over his shoulder, over the back of the lift, at his friend, who was balancing himself before going after the girl. "That's Neil for you, always doing something stupid for a girl's attention…why didn't you go ahead on down there? You could have,"

A shrug was the response. "I don't mind riding the lift with you for a bit. I probably will get off of here at some point though,"

"And just leave me up here all day."

"No, that's not what I meant – "

"I'm only teasing you, Michael. I know you wouldn't leave me up here, all day, in this freezing cold weather with a bad ankle and all that," Eric gave Michael his most pathetic look, which dissolved when they both laughed. And it went quiet again – "So you_don't_ mind riding with me?"

The tone of his voice said he wasn't done teasing, that he meant other things with his words. And Michael caught on easily, and he laughed again, shaking his head. "You _would_ misinterpret that, would you? That's one thing I can always expect out of you,"

"You should know well enough by now what to expect out of me. We've been working together for years, and then we were – "

"And then we were agreeing not to talk about it anymore, weren't we?"

Eric turned himself to face Michael. "I believe it was an agreement to not talk about us fucking, which I wasn't going to bring up. I was going to discuss us having dated, practically living together,"

"Maybe we just shouldn't bring up our romantic past, as we discussed yesterday," Michael suggested.

His obvious discomfort made Eric curious. "Why don't you ever like to talk about it?" he asked. "We're fine now, we're still friends, the show has continued. We agreed that we would just remain friends,"

"And since that we agreed to, I prefer to keep it that way by not bringing up any of the past," Michael said. "Not our first kiss or our first fuck together, nor the second or third or any other time. I don't want to talk about any romantic moments between us because then we would start remembering how we felt during those moments and we would start feeling that way again. We aren't together because we agreed that we were better off as friends, and we should probably keep it that way,"

Michael didn't sound angry when he spoke, he sounded honest and Eric admired the forcefulness behind the words. "I suppose you're right," he turned himself to face forward again. He sat himself upright, trying to think of something else to discuss with Michael that didn't involve their past romance – "I have to pee," he announced.

"What?" Michael glared at him, but he began to smile, very tightlipped as if trying to hold back laughter. "Why didn't you go earlier?"

"I didn't exactly have time. You lot came into my room and took off with me. Lucky for me you had my coat and boots put on, or else I might be frostbitten,"

"You know you're glad that Neil and Graham and I brought you down," Michael replied. "Or else you would be sitting on your bed, bored as fuck, reading and smoking and tossing off,"

Eric tsked at him. "You shouldn't be talking about me tossing off. It might bring up memories for you," he smiled when he saw Michael roll his eyes. His hand reached for his friend's arm and rested gently on the coat sleeve. "Thank you, Michael, for getting me out of that room. I'm having a really great time up here with you,"

That seemed to cheer Michael up a bit, and he returned the warm attitude. "You're welcome,"

"Even if I only have one glove and its fucking cold out and I have to pee,"

"Oh, shut it."

"No, really, I have to pee. How many times are we going to ride the lift? Do you have a cigarette? Never mind, I have one. Is Neil getting in here again, because I think we are quite comfortable up here without him – " Eric continued to ramble off questions of random interest, lighting a cigarette and smoking it, then offering it to his friend. And Michael rolled his eyes once more, taking the cigarette and silently admitting that despite Eric's sudden hyperactivity, he was also having a great time on the ski lift with his ex.

* * *

Graham suggested that it was getting on the ski lift that made Eric's injury swell up; regardless, Eric was feeling able to stay out for a limited amount of time. At lunchtime, he was taken upstairs by John and Terry G, claiming that he actually wasn't that hungry. And so the rest sat downstairs and ate their lunch – warm sandwiches and soup. "Coming back outside, Neil?" Terry J asked as their lunch dishes were being collected, a sign for everyone to put their coats back on.

"I'll catch up. I'm going to take Eric some food, even if he says he doesn't want to eat," Neil replied.

"Here then," Terry G handed Neil the key to the room. "Just give it back when you come outside, so don't lose it between now and then, alright?"

Neil filled up a tray for Eric, as everyone went back outside into the cold. Upstairs at the door, he struggled to juggle the tray as he fished the room key out of his pants pocket, and was finally able to open the lock and push the door. And there was Eric, sitting awkwardly on his bed with the bed sheets pulled up to cover his arms, his right shoulder shaking furiously, and he was sighing with a sound of being _oh so_ pleased – "Sorry!" Neil blurted out when he realized what Eric was doing, and he tried to back out of the room without dropping the tray while covering his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Eric – "

"_God damn it, Neil_!" Eric yelled at him, sinking deeper into the bed sheets, trying to hide himself even more. However, he knew it was too late, as Neil had seen him; it wasn't the first time someone had walked in on him masturbating and he wasn't embarrassed. "I was going to cum. You had to ruin that, didn't you?"

Neil averted his eyes and turned himself, so he was facing the door and backing into the room slowly. "Well, I didn't know you were going to be masturbating in here. You could have waited until everyone was asleep,"

"Yes, because I want to masturbate with Terry in the room, _snoring_ like a chainsaw," Eric replied, wiping his hands on the underside of his blanket and carefully closing up his pants. "Well…fuck. I guess I'll have to wait until you leave. My balls are going to hurt,"

"You'll be fine. Just be grateful that I brought you food," Neil set the tray on the bed and sat where Eric's feet where, and he watched him begin to eat. "It's too bad your leg started hurting again because you've been missing quite a nice time outdoors. Today, the snow is positively marvelous,"

Eric gave him a look that plainly told Neil to shut it. "I had a nice time earlier, _and_ I was having quite a nice time in here, until you came in here," he held his plate closer to his stomach. "Is everyone downstairs eating?"

Neil shook his head, taking napkins out of his pocket. "They all went back outside, and I'll be going out as well. Do you want me to send someone back up here to keep you company?"

"No, I'm fine. I don't want to be a distraction from the fun you all are having," Eric replied.

"You are being quite strange this weekend, you know. You've been so distant and you keep acting like you don't want to bother anyone, when we all know that if you could be outside, you would be completely different. What are you on, hm?" Neil asked. "You were fine until we got here. What's gotten into you?"

Eric shook his head. "There's nothing at all wrong with me. I'm just trying to spend time relaxing since I can't do anything else. Not that there is much else to do – "

"You would just like to be up here alone thinking about Michael while you toss off, right?" Neil asked. There was quite a long pause, as Eric took another bite of his lunch. Neil knew he was trying to fill his mouth so he wouldn't say anything that gave away his romantic feelings for Michael. He knew that even though the other men might have believed that the two didn't feel like that towards each other, Neil knew that Eric did – he knew that Eric still cared very much for Michael, the way that Michael had admitted to yesterday. "I know you were thinking of him when I came in here. Do you want me to send him up?"

"No," Eric said quickly. "No, I don't want you to say a thing to him. If you do, I swear to God, Neil, I…"

He went on eating, and Neil felt a smirk creep into the corners of his mouth. "So what do you imagine him doing?"

Eric glared at him. "Shut it,"

"Probably think about bending him over, watching his back curve – "

"Shut it, Neil."

Neil did stop, smirking even more. "You still love him, don't you?"

"I don't think it's something that could be called 'love'. We were only together for just over half a year, that's hardly enough time to fall in love with someone," Eric replied, and there was another pause – "I do miss him though. I miss spending time with him the way we did yesterday and today…it's been really nice,"

"Then do something about it. Tell him you miss him,"

"Yes, and that doesn't sound stupid at all. What do I say to him? _Oh, come climb into my bed and we'll start over_. Neil, things just don't work like that,"

"Why not? Why can't things work like that? Why is it so wrong for people to just say how they feel and for it to be accepted so easily? If people were more honest, life would be easier because we would feel so free from lies and we wouldn't have to worry about who tells the truth because everyone would. Why is the truth so wrong?"

"It's wrong because people are scared by honesty. No one wants to hear the truth about how people feel, or how something looks. People want to be lied to so they feel better about themselves,"

"But we're honest with each other, and we're fine. You tell me when I'm being quite the over romantic sap, and I tell you when you're being quite the cock. And now I'm going to tell you that I know you care about Michael more than you want to admit, and I think that you're going to continue to be miserable the way you are unless you are honest. So I'm going to suggest you break that barrier, Eric. Be the first person to be honest with someone else about your feelings. What's the worst that can happen?"

Eric took a moment to think of the worst case scenario. "He could tell me to fuck off and all the work that we did together on the show will be flushed down the toilet, and then all the others will hate me because I caused the end of our careers because of my love for Michael,"

Neil shook his head. "I sincerely doubt that will happen."

"Well, you clearly don't know any of the others very well. Some of them can hold grudges very well for a very long time," Eric glanced down at his tray, which wasn't very empty of food. "I'm not really that hungry…and my balls are starting to hurt pretty badly,"

"Fine, fine. I'll take that as a dismissal," Neil collected Eric's tray. "Just think about what I said. I still think you should say something, unless you want to have to resort to thinking about Michael instead of really touching him," Neil stood up and went for the door, grinning at Eric over his shoulder. "You know, thinking about him bent over in front of you, his back arched, arse _open_ – "

"_Shut it_, Neil!"

"What, the door?"

"The door and your mouth," Eric replied. Neil winked at him once before shutting the door, and Eric could hear him muttering to himself as he went down the hallway. With a sigh, Eric slid back underneath the sheets and opened his pants, relocating his cock and imagining what Neil had described for him.

* * *

After dinner that evening, Graham, David, Michael, and Terry J went to the liquor that was down the road from the lodge and came back with drinks. All eight men gathered on the loveseats in the sitting room, where the fireplace was glowing and spreading warmth around the room, and they quickly immersed themselves in their drinks. Eric sat in one of the chairs against the wall, trying not to let his eyes wander over to Michael, who was sitting on the loveseat wedged between John and Graham. He hoped that Neil hadn't said anything to Michael – not that he would be embarrassed or upset; yet at the same time, he did because he wanted Michael to know. And meanwhile, Michael was also trying to not look at Eric. But John was talking, and he was sitting in Eric's direction, so Michael's eyes would casually glance at his former lover and he would bite his lips from the inside. If they were together, he would be sitting on Eric's lap, and they would be talking privately. They would probably sneak away to go upstairs at some point and he would stand on the step higher than Eric, pull them together and kiss him, then they would get in bed together –

"Now where do you think you're going?" Graham asked their friend, who was pushing himself up out of the chair.

"I think I'm going to go up to bed," Eric said, standing up.

"No, you have to stay down here with us," John told him very clearly, as he wasn't as intoxicated as everyone else; truthfully, Eric and Michael were also not as drunk as the others. Michael looked at the clock on the wall, realizing that it was late and they had been drinking for quite a few hours.

Neil was also standing up, although he wasn't able to and landed back on the loveseat. "Damn it…the floor is spinning…" he laughed. "I was going to help you…fuck. I can't even…" he couldn't finish his thought.

John pushed against Michael's shoulder. "You help him upstairs. I'll stay down here and deal with the rest,"

Michael looked at Eric, who was looking back at him; they both had to admit that it wasn't expected for them to be pushed together so soon like this. "Are you sure?" Michael asked, not realizing what he had said.

A nod was his response, so Michael pushed himself out from between John and Neil, who fell into the middle of the couch at the same time, and he went to assist his former lover. Together, Eric and Michael made their way out of the room, upstairs, and down the hallway to the room, feeling bodies touching. There was a tight tension between them as they walked, pausing outside the door for Eric to balance against the doorframe and search his pockets for the room key. "You want to come in? I actually found_another_ joint in the outside pocket in my suitcase, we could share it,"

"I really should go to my room," Michael told him as he watched Eric insert the key into the lock. "I'm gross from being outside all day, I should go and take a shower. And you know how I get when I smoke, it makes me – " his words were interrupted by the sound of the key turning in the lock; he swallowed anxiously. " – makes me mad."

Eric gave him a look of disbelief. "Well, come on in for a few minutes. At least make sure I get into bed alright? You would feel just awful if Terry came in here later and found me lying in the middle of the room, wouldn't you?"

Michael pressed his lips together nervously, thinking that if he went in there, it could be like the sexy lady who kidnapped milkman from that sketch on their show. He would go in there and never come out – "Okay. But just for a few minutes," he agreed, and turned the doorknob to open the door.

The room was dark and deadly silent, and they moved inside together. As Eric waited in the doorway, Michael continued into the darkness until he found the bedside table with the lamp on it. The situation of the electricity was that the light switch by the door would turn on all the currents, but the only light fixture in the room was the lamp on the bedside table. Michael turned the knob with his fingertips and light flooded the room. "Come lay in bed with me," Eric said, shutting the door.

"No, Eric," Michael told him, as he knew exactly what Eric was up to – they had those few drinks downstairs, and he knew how Eric could get – he discreetly hoped Eric would get like that; Michael could imagine him being the same even if they weren't together anymore. And he could hear Eric moving towards him, expecting him to 'fall' against him and knock him onto the bed, or grab him up and start undressing him. Instead, Eric settled onto the bed and was removing his shoe and socks, and his eyes gazed over Michael with a look of interest on his face. Oddly enough, Michael felt a thin veil of weakness drape over him, ready to turn into a giant wave and crash over him. "I'm going to use the bathroom," he finally said, and turned around to go into the small room.

The weakness was not only affecting his feet and his heart and mind, but his bladder as well. Michael unzipped his pants and urinated into the toilet, keeping his eyes on the top of the toilet tank. _What am I doing in here_? he asked himself as the stream ran into a light trickle, into a drip._This is a very bad idea. I know exactly what he's going to do._He put himself back in his pants and closed them up again, then turned on the faucet to wash his hands and put water on his face. _Don't get in bed with him. You're going to want to, but don't._The door opened and he stepped back out into the bedroom, where Eric was lying back on the bed. "Do you think it would it be strange for Terry to come in and find us in bed together?" Eric asked, twisting a loose thread on the blanket between his fingers.

"No, because we're not doing anything. We're going to get you comfortable and then I'm going back to my room," Michael told him, putting a pillow under Eric's injured ankle. "You just want to get caught with me in your bed, don't you?" he straightened up and looked down at Eric.

In that moment, with Michael looking at him like that, Eric decided that he was going to take Neil's advice. When they came upstairs, it was just flirting, something silly and innocent; now, he was going to pull out all the stops. "Perhaps," Eric crossed his arms behind his head, and gave Michael his cheeky trademark grin. "Please, Michael? At least until I'm asleep. You know I like to be warm when I fall asleep,"

"You mean that you don't like to be alone when you fall asleep," Michael sighed heavily, feeling himself caving in. "Alright, I'll stay for ten minutes, no more. So move over,"

Eric nodded towards the small space between the wall and his body, all beneath the window that showed the moonlight on the snow. "Go ahead and lie there. Please don't make me move my ankle, it's sore and I don't want to move it," he gave his most injured look, and Michael had to look at the floor.

"You're such a baby," Michael complained and carefully hoisted his leg over Eric's body and moved himself into the empty spot. It was surprisingly warm in between Eric and the wall, and Michael settled himself on the pillow. Immediately, Eric sat up and pulled the blanket up over them. "_Eric_ – " Michael protested, but Eric was already snuggling down into the bedding.

A laugh was the response, and Eric turned onto his side, still keeping his ankle on the pillow. "Look at us, all nice and cozy, aren't we? Now what should we talk about?"

**To Be Continued…**


	4. Chapter Four

Michael responded by slowly shaking his head, accompanied by an annoyed look when he felt Eric's good leg snaking in between his own. "I hope you realize, and I'm sure you know, that you really are something else," he tried to shift slightly, but found himself bumping his head against the wall. "Damn. We can't fit very well on this bed, not like yours or mine…I think I'm getting fat. Maybe that's why we're so squashed in here,"

Eric's hand went between them to rest against Michael's stomach. "No, you're not getting fat. You're just not stick thin. It's sad that people find 'pleasing to the touch' and 'pleasing to the eye' so different, like our senses are strangers. We just need to let them work together and make up their own ideas," he continued moving his hand in a circular motion. "Your body is beautiful."

"Well, thank you," Michael replied in a no nonsense tone, trying to act like he was not pleased with Eric's words. He supported his head in his hand and his eyes wandered around the room, looking at all of Eric and Terry's things that had scattered across the desk and the floor, the clothes had been worn that weren't put in bags to be washed, their toiletries, shoes, books – "You two need a maid in here, you slobs."

"I'm sure you can borrow a maid's outfit from one of the employees,"

"Oh, shut it, will you? And stop touching my stomach, I'm not here for that,"

Eric did stop, tucking his thumb into his belt loop and resting his hand on his hip, but he didn't move away from Michael. "You know, I never asked what your parents said when we stopped seeing each other, or what Angela said. I'm sure your parents were very thrilled with that announcement,"

He looked at Michael, who almost didn't want to respond, and he finally did after a heavy sigh. "My parents didn't really say anything about it, although I'm sure they were pleased that I wasn't going around with another man anymore. Having it off in such a '_filthy way_', as…as _she_ would say it…not being a '_real man_', as _he_ would call me…" he paused, pressing his lips together. "But Angela said she was sorry that we were done because she did like you and she thought we went together well. That we were opposites and that's why we were attracted to each other, like magnets,"

"She said we were magnets?" Eric repeated; Michael nodded. "I suppose that is an interesting perception,"

"That's all it is, just a perception, so don't get any ideas," Michael told him sharply. "Imagine if you were my mother and I came to you one day, with a man, and said 'I would like to introduce you to Eric, my co-worker, and my boyfriend. Oh, you didn't know I like men? Well, _indeed_, I do'. I'm sure _yours_was just fine with the knowledge that her son is a cum guzzler,"

"_Me_? I'm the cum guzzler?" Eric acted offended, and it was quiet for a moment then. He didn't even realize that his hand had left his hip and was resting on Michael's stomach once more. "No, she wasn't too fond of it either. I don't think she understood how we felt about each other. At least your sister was supportive of us. I had no one to say that it was alright for me to care about you,"

"Of course she wouldn't understand, my parents didn't understand. We are both the only sons in our families, we were supposed to marry _women_ and have children that take our family names and continued them into the future. But instead, we both developed feelings for someone who happened to be a man, and that sort of thing is considered strange and unusual, and socially wrong,"

"Are you getting upset about this, Michael? You are rather impatient tonight…want me to rub your back? I know you like when I rub down your spine and between – "

Michael gave him a look. "I don't want you to rub anything of mine, thank you very much, because I will be leaving soon, and for that to happen, you need to be asleep. So please lie down and close your eyes and go to sleep,"

"Mmm…" Eric murmured, slowly closing his eyes and tilting his head towards his pillow. Suddenly, he sprung back up and opened his eyes, startling Michael when Eric leaned close to him. "No! I want to take a bath," he then began to push himself up into a sitting position as Michael continued lying on the bed, watching him with confusion in his eyes. "Come on. I need help getting to the bathtub,"

"Are you serious?" Michael demanded. "You want to take a _bath_? I thought you were going – " he interrupted himself with a pause as he watched Eric struggled to get himself to the edge of the bed. Oh, this was just like Eric to be silly, then serious, then silly again – Michael should have known, and now he wasn't so sure if he could handle the random hyperactivity. "I'm going back to my room. You're just playing games, and I don't want – "

"_Wrong_," Eric smiled at him, and it was the kind that Michael hated – the condescending kind that he usually saw when Eric would hold the last cigarette or beer or…_something_ over his head, out of his reach, _the very last one_. Or when Eric was doing something in bed that Michael liked and would slow himself to tease his lover, or when Eric thought he was right during an argument, even when he wasn't. Although this time, he just might be right…

"How am I wrong?" Michael asked.

The smile came through again. "Take me to the bathroom and help me get my bath ready and I'll tell you,"

Michael knew Eric was up to his old tricks again, but he climbed out of bed and went ahead to the bathroom. He turned on the water, plugged the drain, and turned around to see Eric without his shirt. It was nothing out of the ordinary, they had changed in front of each other to dress for the show, but once they had taken that step too far, being naked in front of each other usually led to other things. "I'll wait in the room for you to finish,"

"No, you won't," Eric told him, supporting himself against the doorframe as he opened his pants and he carefully balanced as he lowered his pants to the floor. "You're going to get in the bath with me,"

"Eric, I won't be taking a bath with you. I know exactly what you're trying to do, you're trying to seduce me," Michael said, knowing that he needed to get out of there. "And it will not happen, because I'm going to wait in the room for you to take your bath and when you're done, I'll put you in bed and then I'm going to my room – "

Eric interrupted by placing his fingertip firmly against Michael's mouth to silence him. "You did say you needed to take a shower because you were gross from being outside. Correct?"

_You're right_, Michael thought, but sent the thought away as quick as possible from his mind. "I can bathe in my own bathroom, thank you very much,"

"But why do that when I'll already have a full hot bath?" Eric asked. "Michael, I can see that you're acting like you don't want to be here. But if you don't want to be, then why are you? I know you, my darling, and you would have left already if you _really_didn't want to be here. But I think you do."

Again, Michael thought about how Eric was right – he couldn't help but want to spend time with Eric like they use to before. As much as he was trying to ignore it, he really liked knowing that Eric had been keeping an eye on him this whole trip, and it almost made him blush knowing that Eric had been plotting to get them alone like this again. The others…what about Terry?" he asked, knowing that if he so happened to decide to get in the bath, it meant that they had limited time before Eric's weekend roommate would be coming back.

Eric didn't say anything; instead, he took the waistband of his shorts and lowered it to the floor. "What about Terry?" he straightened up.

Michael thought about how Eric always had good energy and a high metabolism, and was always tall and thin. There was something about his scrawny build that Michael had enjoyed, from a quick glance in the changing room at the studio, to when their arms brushed when they walked next to each other. He had taken an insane liking to Eric from the day they met, having been mesmerized by his quick wit and great knowledge, and a mere thought sent a warm fever over Michael's body every time – he loved when their bodies touched. He had loved the _idea_ of them touching, but sometimes watching Eric touch _himself_ was good enough. "Uh…" Michael finally broke his gaze away from Eric's body; his observation was easily noticed, and it made that grin spread over Eric's face again. "Just a quick bath, alright?"

"Alright," Eric agreed, sitting on the edge of the bathtub to get in. Slowly, Michael removed his sweater and folded it on the toilet, then removed his white undershirt and pants to stand wearing only his thick striped socks. "Well, you _are_ a sight for sore eyes," Eric smiled up at Michael and held out his hands. "Help me in?"

Ignoring the flirting words, Michael took Eric's hands and maneuvered him into the bathtub. There was steam rising off the top of the water and he turned off the spigot, letting it slow to a drip. "Where's that joint you promised?" Michael asked.

Eric snapped his fingers in remembrance. "Oh, right – it's in the pocket out the outside of my bag," he adjusted his bad leg to extend along the length of the tub while Michael went back into the room and found his bag. He came back with a lighter and a wrapped piece of wonderful and handed it to Eric, then took off his socks and got in. They sat for awhile, Michael's legs bent awkwardly at the knee against Eric's good leg, and they shared the thick joint. There was a thick cloud of smoke and a thin layer of foam on top of the water barely covering them.

"Who did you get this from?" Michael reached for the joint and brought it to his mouth, inhaling deeply for as long as he could until it felt like his lungs would collapse. "It's really good," he coughed.

"I bought it off a friend of a friend," Eric explained. "It's good, isn't it? It does – ow!"His knee was starting to cramp, and he extended his good leg over the edge of the bathtub. "I hate how small this bathtub is. Maybe when we get back to your place, we can take one in your bathtub, where we can actually fit inside of it,"

"Maybe it is God's way of saying we're too old to take baths," Michael told him. _Why is he talking about going to my place_? he wondered.

"I like taking baths with you," Eric stretched his arm over the edge of the white bathtub to put the joint in the ashtray, which was placed on the toilet. "We use to all the time, remember? Baths and showers..."

He then made a 'come here' gestured with his hands, and Michael looked at him strangely. "What?" he asked, and Eric whispered his command. With a sigh of mock impatience, Michael moved onto his knees so he could stretch out in the bathtub and he lay out against Eric's body; his lover's arms encircled Michael, pulling them snug together. "You're so warm…" he muttered against Eric's clavicle, moving even closer when the cool air pricked his damp skin and he shivered. He may have acted like he was annoyed; however –

Eric laughed, his breath moving over Michael's hair and his hands slowly trailing down Michael's back, leaving water droplets on his flesh. "Well, we are in a bath," he teased.

Michael continued trying to act like he wasn't enjoying this. "Don't be a smartass."

"I'm not. I just think your little observations are very cute," Eric put his hand underwater in search of the washcloth. When he found it, and had grasped the bar of soap with the other hand, he rubbed them together in until the washcloth was thick with foam. Gently, he began washing Michael, moving the cloth in a circular motion on his right shoulder, then across his back to his left shoulder to clean, and then in the middle. "How's that feel?"

"It feels good," Michael gave in and gently laid his forehead to Eric's chest. The washcloth continued working, circling down his back and cleaning away any sweat and exhaustion that had collected on him over the day and a sigh whispered from his lips. That was when Eric's finger hooked under Michael's chin and they looked at each other, and Michael knew he should try again to fight it but he couldn't; Eric was right – he would have left if he didn't want to be there. He was trapped in the bathtub, wrapped in Eric's arms, having his body washed – he could feel the washcloth moving lower down his body and Eric's fingers through the material, finding the shape of his cheeks and the line between them – and Eric tilted Michael's head up to capture his mouth in a kiss, one that started out soft and careful, but it changed when his tongue licked against Michael's lips. He tried not to eagerly kiss Eric's mouth back, taking in his smoky breath and his sweet wine flavored tongue, but he did and a moan went between them. Michael's hand moved out of the water and held onto the back of Eric's head, keeping them close together as they licked, sucked, _tasted_ each other's mouths. When they finally did part, their breathing was heavy and desperate. "You tease," Michael whispered.

He could see Eric's eyes looking back at him, glazed over lustfully. "You like when I tease," Eric replied knowingly, a smile on his face.

Michael pushed with his toes against the edge of the white porcelain to move him up Eric's body. "Perhaps I do," he said in a hushed whisper – and Eric's head bent towards him so their foreheads could rest together. One of Michael's fingers traced Eric's jaw line and moved over his lips, making them pucker against the pad of his fingertip. They moved again, whispering some sort of incoherent secret that Michael didn't understand. "Hm?"

"It hurts," Eric repeated, his eyes looking downward.

"What hurts?" Michael asked.

"How much I miss you. Why does it have to hurt so much?" Eric paused and closed his eyes. "_Fuck_. I shouldn't have said that, I sounded dense. You probably want to leave now. What time is it?"

"…I don't want to leave," Michael said.

Eric smiled and his hand cupped Michael's face to massage his cheek. "I miss you," his voice was quiet. "I've never liked anyone the way I like you, and to throw away the past years of our work, our friendship, and of us being together would be a horrible idea. Think about how good we are together…I miss that. I've missed you,"

It was an honest line, Michael knew that, and he knew that they had missed each other in equal amounts. He could see it in Eric's eyes, with their foreheads still pressed together, their lips were only centimeters apart. "I've missed you too," he finally said.

"Good," Eric said, tracing the side of Michael's face with his fingertips.

Michael grinned shyly, a blush moving over his cheeks. "You are one of the most affectionate men I've ever met. Always saying things, kissing me, touching me, holding me…you can't withhold love,"

"It's probably because it was withheld from me for so long,"

Michael knew the tale of how Eric had been dumped off at school and trapped for many years, finally free at the age of nineteen of the fights and abuse of teachers and other students; Eric was very sensitive about his mother's abandonment. It had taken a long time for him to break through and explain his life to Michael, yet still to that day (or according to two weeks ago) he had horrible dreams of being back at this school. "For someone who had love withheld, you are amazing at showing it. I never understood why someone like you would want me. You are such an exciting person, you could have anyone, and you chose me," Michael said slowly, as if trying to make Eric understand his words.

"You're wonderful, Michael. I don't know why you would want to be with _me_," Eric told him. "I'm not…there's nothing special about me,"

"Why did you choose me?" Michael asked seriously.

"Why not?"

"Because _I'm_ not anything special. I'm just myself, someone normal, plain and boring like a pair of socks. I hadn't even been with another man before, I had no idea what to do, and you decided I was worth it," Michael paused. "What was it that made us decide we weren't worth it?"

"I felt like I was getting too attached to you," Eric admitted after a long pause. "I thought that I was getting too dependent on you and your affection…I know that I told you I thought we were better off as friends, which I still believe sometimes, but it was too strange to want you the way I did. And when I was having trouble being away from you, needing you even when I slept, I knew I had to get out. I had to leave,"

Michael felt a scowl twist on his face. "You didn't have to be so afraid, you know,"

Eric shook his head. "I wasn't use to it. No one had ever treated me the way you did, so how could I not enjoy it? Every time I would even see you, just see you standing there, I would feel all anxious inside, and the whole thing about butterflies in my stomach…I wasn't use to that, I didn't like how I would feel. I knew I loved you, but I didn't want love to be like that…it made me…_sick_."

"What did you expect love to be like?" Michal asked. His body was beginning to hurt from laying the way he was and he sat up, almost painfully withdrawing himself from Eric; water and foam clung to him and he could see Eric's eyes on him. "It's not always skipping in meadows and love notes and kissing in the rain. I…I love you, and I know you love me, and it's a deep yet frightening emotion, I will agree to that. But isn't it worth it?" he sat up straight on his knees in the bathtub. "I think it was. I even think it's worth another try."

Eric sat up as well, his arms reached for Michael and wrapped around him, kissing his stomach. "I'm sorry. I know it was sudden, and it's…it's been awful. I've wanted to hug you and hold your hand and kiss you, but I couldn't because I was trying to not be dependent. And I realized it wouldn't change, but I didn't think you would… that you would want to go back to what we had,"

"You should have said something to me," Michael told him. "But you didn't. It sounded like you continued being your stubborn self and doing what you wanted. You've always been like that, always saying one thing and doing what you want…" he sighed. "And I…well, I heard…some things about you,"

"What are you talking about?" Eric asked, his voice on the edge of defense.

Michael pushed Eric away from him then, fully sitting back against the edge of the bathtub. "I heard that you went on a date," he said in a hostile tone.

"So what if I did? You and I were over when it happened. It shouldn't matter what I do," Eric reminded him, now sounding as if he didn't care.

"What did you do on this date?" Michael demanded.

Eric sighed heavily at the distraction of their bath, which had been going exactly as he wanted. "We went to dinner, and then to a club. And I gave them a ride home, and that was it,"

"Oh, I'll bet you gave them a ride," was the sarcastic retort. "What else happened?"

"Are you asking if there were physically relations after wards?" Eric asked in a teasing tone. He knew it was driving Michael insane, and he couldn't help but want to tease him – Michael, who was known for being so nice and sweet. "I know they wanted to, the way they kept holding my hand and they would 'accidently' touch me. I did let them kiss me goodnight though,"

He could see Michael looking rather disgruntled about what he had just heard, and his words were full of resentment. "Kissing is fucking, only with your mouth."

"Oral sex is fucking with your mouth," Eric corrected him. "You shouldn't be so jealous of just one kiss goodnight because nothing else happened, and you should just let it go. I know I'm never going to see _her_ again,"

"Oh, that's even better – on a date with a woman!" Michael tried to look at Eric's eyes, but was unable to when Eric rolled his eyes at the annoyance of the comments. "How can I just let it go? How can _you_ just let it go and pretend that nothing happened? We haven't been apart for more than two weeks. How could you be going on dates already?"

Eric looked up at Michael. "Well, that didn't stop you from going out on a date with Carol's friends," he replied hotly, receiving a startled look from Michael. "That's right. I heard about it, not from Carol, but from Gilliam. And that's very nice of you to jump on my back about going on dates too early, especially when you've beat me to it,"

Michael paused. "I did go out with one of Carol's friends, and yes, it was a _woman_. But I really didn't want to – you know how persuasive Carol is, she told me the girl had just been broken up with and just needed company for a night. But we only went to eat with Carol and Doug, and that was it. There was nothing romantic, and we certainly didn't fuck. _You_ – "

He cut the words short when he hear Eric's hands drifting through the bathwater, as if Eric was trying to distract himself from their squabble. What did it matter if either of them went on dates with other people? But the thing was that it wasn't that Eric had gone out with someone else, but that it was with a woman, and that it was so soon to them being apart – "Well, I am sorry," Eric finally said. "It was just one time."

A hand rubbed under Michael's nose, distracting himself from getting upset. "We were good friends, weren't we?"

"We were very good friends. We practically lived together. We ate, shopped, bathed, worked, slept together…fucked together…we read the newspaper, do the crossword puzzles. If I had a joint, I waited for you to come around to smoke it – you're right, you are absolutely mad when you smoke, and I always liked it," Eric listed off their activities. "I always introduced you as my lover, as my partner, as my mate. It was always you and me."

"Had you ever slept with anyone else while we were together?" Michael asked suddenly.

"Well, look at you accusing me of having it off with someone else. Mike, when I was with you, I was with you. There was never anyone else."

"You never wanted anyone else? You never thought about fucking other men, or any women?"

"No one else," Eric said sincerely. There was another long pause between them as Michael studied Eric's face for any signs of dishonesty; he nodded his approval when he decided that Eric was being honest. Michael thought that maybe it was time for him to get out of the bathtub, but Eric's words stopped him. "What about you? I know how close you and Terry are. I thought…you know, _may_be…sometimes, when you were at his place writing, that maybe you were doing other things together,"

Eric saw Michael almost double take in frustration at his words, and he wondered if Michael might hit him. "I haven't slept with anyone since we started together. You should know that, I have the scars to prove it. How about when I got rug burn on my hands and knees when you bought that new stupid rug and we just 'had to fuck on it'? Or when you aimed up too far above my mouth and came directly in my eye and it was bad for a few days? I've put up with your shenanigans for quite some time, so how could you accuse me of something like that?"

"Okay, so I'm wrong. You never fucked anyone else," Eric held up his wet hands in defense. "You know, you never use to be like this. You were always very calm and normal,"

"Well, I got upset when we came here for a quiet holiday and you started talking about wanting to fuck some girl on the slopes," Michael hadn't realizing how resentful he was sounding. "I mean…everyone says that's what you've been talking about. I'm…I just don't…like it…"

His eyes cast down onto the water, which had no foam on it at all he could see a crack on the bottom of the bathtub, and he distracted himself by wiping away droplets of water that had collected on his knee; however, Eric saw through it. "You were jealous, weren't you?" he asked; Michael didn't respond. "_Michael_ – "

"Why couldn't you wait a little longer to be with someone else?" Michael asked his knee in a sad, childish tone. "That's why I was letting the man at the front desk think he had a chance with me, to make _you_ jealous," he paused. "I don't understand…how could you go back to women after what we had? After all of the things we did in bed…I thought…I thought you liked…_sucking my cock_," he said the last three words very quietly.

"I do like it," Eric agreed. "You know I do. It's a lovely cock, and I'm delighted that you chose to put it in _my_ mouth. And Michael, I know you only went out with Carol's friend to be nice, that was what she told me after I found out from Terry. But I know that because I have had…_experience_…in both directions that I can keep my options open, and you can too,"

"I can be a _slut_ then, as you're choosing to be," Michael narrowed down the description to the job title he felt it best discussed.

Eric sighed, lying back against the edge of the bathtub and he tilted his head back. "You really know how to misunderstand something, don't you?"

Michael looked up at him. "Well, that's exactly how it sounds. Maybe I should slap a price on myself and then we can see who makes the better whore. How do you feel about that idea?"

"You're overacting, you know? That's not at all what I was saying. And anyway, I saw you with that man," Eric's eyes were lit up with their own form of jealous, which Michael had seen a few times before. "Not the front desk man, the other one who called you over at the ski lift…what's his name?"

"It doesn't matter what his name is, because I didn't come up here with the intention of fucking some random person," Michael retorted. "I came up here to spend time with my friends and freeze my arse off outside. This trip was your idea anyway, so I suppose the screwing around was too…it always is…"

There was a look of skepticism on Eric's face. "You were the one who brought it up,"

"Well, I regret it now," Michael twisted back towards the bathtub spigot, and he reached behind him to unplug the drain and it was silent for a moment, then there was a loud sucking noise and the water level began to lower. "We're done in your bath now. I'm going to put you back in bed,"

"I do love when you're forceful and angry," Eric teased, extending his hands for Michael to hold and pull him up. They wobbled for a moment as Eric found his footing, then Michael stepped out and assisted Eric onto the towel on the floor, and for just a moment their fronts happened to touch.

Michael saw Eric look down between them. "Stop it," he warned.

Eric looked back up at him, trying to hide the grin on his face by biting his lip. "Stop what?"

"Stop looking at me," Michael handed him a towel and took one for himself, and began to dry his body.

"You have a lovely body, you know, and I just so happen to really like it,"

"That's great, just great," Michael replied distractedly, rubbing the towel over himself. Once they both were dry, he then helped Eric back into the room and set him on the bed. "Where are your pajamas?"

He didn't know why he was asking, as he knew where Eric kept everything when away and what he wore to bed as well. Pajama tops were too constricting and Eric claimed that he felt claustrophobic, the buttons choked him and somehow, he always got a skin burn on his neck from the collar – "In the top right drawer," Eric pointed, deciding that he shouldn't say anything else to make Michael upset. He was already frustrated enough.

"Which ones do you want?" Michael opened the drawer.

"Just an undershirt and shorts," Eric said quietly.

"But you'll freeze in just those. The material is too thin," Michael told him, opening the drawer further. He knew what he should give Eric, but again, he knew what Eric wanted and the question now was which of the two options were more important. "Here," he pulled out an undershirt, as directed, and long pajama pants, minus the top; the clothes were handed over for Eric to get dressed, and Michael gathered up his own clothes. He put back on his shorts, jeans, undershirt and sweater; his socks and shoes were somewhere.

**To Be Continued...**


	5. Chapter Five

Eric sat up on his bed, fully dressed now. "I suppose you're going back to your room now,"

"I was planning on it," Michael replied. "Are you alright now?"

"I think so," Eric laid back on his pillow. "…I'm sorry."

Michael looked at him. "Why?"

"For making you upset. It wasn't my intention at all…I just wanted to be close to you again. I miss you,"

"Eric, I miss you too," Michael straightened his sweater as he stepped closer to the bed. "And I really…_really_ enjoyed that bath with you…I don't want us to try and work things out here, not now. We're taking the weekend to be with our friends and we should be spending time with them, not held up in a room together…_this_ room…the one you share with Terry. What if he came in here and caught us?"

Eric shrugged. "What if he did?"

Michael gave him a look. "Let's just enjoy the rest of the tomorrow and when we get back home, we'll decide,"

"So you think what we had is worth another go?" Eric asked, a slight grin began to grow over his face. "Why don't we then? It's been two weeks, and clearly, I'm not over you yet, so why not give it another go?"

He looked so happy, and the feeling was contagious; Michael felt a similar smile play on his mouth. "Well, clearly I'm not over you yet," he bit his lip, but he couldn't hold back the excitement on his face. "I'd like to give this another go…whatever _this_ is,"

"Great," Eric told him; his eyes turned shyly to the floor then, which surprised Michael – Eric was _never_ shy. When they looked back to his friend, the shyness had faded into – "Can I have a goodnight kiss before you leave?"

Something about how he said it…"Sure," Michael turned the knob on the lamp on the table and the light went off, and he went to the bedside. He leaned over on his hands and gently pressed his lips to Eric's, finding that he was able to melt oh so easily into Eric's kiss. _Pull away_, he told himself, knowing once again that he needed to do it before he found himself lost. "Goodnight," he said to Eric.

"Goodnight," Eric replied in a similar soft voice.

And Michael would have pulled away, but he was still melting into Eric, and that's how he ended up kissing Eric again. _Stop it_, he told himself, but Eric bit his lip, sucking on it, and Michael felt his knees bend – he turned his head away, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "Goodnight," he repeated.

Eric tilted his head to one side just so, a look that was made of intrigue was on his face – he wondered how far this would go. "Goodnight, Michael," he replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "Although…you could just get back in bed with me."

The following kiss brought Michael to a sitting position on the bed, pressing Eric into the pillows. He just couldn't stop; once he got back into it, once je tasted Eric again, it was going to be difficult to stop. "I should go," he said in a harsh whisper when he was able to pull away _again_.

"…Okay," Michael agreed. He was back between the sheets in a moment. Eric pulled the blankets over them, wrapping them up in fabric and flesh, and they lay on the pillow together. "Somehow, your bed seems more comfortable now than earlier," Michael observed.

"Yes, because you didn't want to lay in it with me then. And now that you're cooperating, we're much better now, aren't we?" Eric's arm moved around Michael's waist, pulling them tightly together. Once again, his mouth found Michael's and gave him a gentle kiss before moving down to kiss along his jaw, and his hand swept up into Michael's hair, tangling in the dark strands.

They were kissing for awhile when Michael felt Eric's fingers slide down his cheek and neck, then walk down his chest. He knew exactly where they were heading, and he felt a flash of lightheadedness smooth over him. His face turned away from Eric's, and he pressed his lips together when those fingers pulled his belt from the loop and move to the zipper. It was open and Michael smiled, eyes still closed, when Eric's hands dipped inside, rubbing over his shorts; his cock responded immediately. "What if Terry – " he started to half heartedly protest.

"Don't mention anyone else when we're doing something like this," Eric warned him, one of the usual rules that were to be followed when they were intimate. "You wouldn't want to be thinking of someone else when we do this, do you?" he paused. "Or maybe you do want to think of someone else,"

Michael shook his head quickly on the pillow, licking his lips. "No. No one else,"

Eric moved closer to him, gently kissing Michael's cheek and he placed one on the corner of Michael's mouth. "You know, Mikey, I may say that _I_ have the biggest, the best, the most lovely cock around…" his fingers wrapped around Michael's erection, earning him a low moan from the mouth so close to his. "But it's only second best compared to yours."

"Is it?" Michael stretched back, his arms over his head and his legs as far down the bed as they could go, his feet over the edge. Eric murmured in agreement and began to stroke him. "_Ohhh_…" he breathed heavily through his nose and smiled, tilting his head to one side again.

He realized then that it was just too damn warm, that the blankets and their bodies were producing too much heat. He could feel his skin becoming tight and uncomfortable, and Michael began to shift in his very hot sweater. "Do you need to take that off?" Eric asked him, his hand still moving up and down the erection.

Michael nodded quickly, feeling how the warm flush spreading slowly over his form. Eric let him go, giving his lover enough time to sit up and quickly take off his sweater, and Michael laid back on the pillow and Eric took his cock back in his grasp. The movements continued, going between smooth, slow strokes that sped to quick shakes, and Michael gave sighs of appreciation. "That…" Michael started to speak, but he couldn't very well, and fell silent again. He couldn't help but squirm slightly as he could feel pleasure building up inside of him.

"Oh, is that it?" Eric teased him quietly, asking if Michael liked what he was doing. He kissed Michael's mouth again, grinning at the whimper that came from Michael's mouth. It was followed up by Michael slowly pushing himself up into Eric's hand, and the pleased giggle couldn't be held back from escaping Eric. "That's what will make you cum, won't it? Go ahead, Michael…go ahead and cum,"

A quick nod from Michael was the reply, and Eric's hand shook him faster. It wasn't necessarily the speed that took him over the edge when he came later, but the feeling of the grip – gentle palm and tightened fingers, soft skin that didn't pull or stretch him uncomfortably. It was familiar, it was them working together again, it was _Eric wanking him off_, and just thinking those words almost made him cum again. His body felt heavy with sudden exhaustion, and all he wanted to do was curl up under the thick blankets and sleep; however, his own bed was in the next room, and it seemed so far away, and he was already in a bed that was warm and comfortable. And of course, he would have quite the bedmate, one who had licked his hand clean and smiled at him in the dark and kissed him, and Michael could taste his own cum on Eric's tongue. And those were the last things he remembered before sleep took over…

* * *

It was much later in the night when the remaining members of the group decided to return to their rooms for bed. Outside his room in his slightly drunken state, Terry was fumbling to put his key into the lock, but made it in anyhow. Somehow, he didn't notice that Michael was still in the room, still in bed with Eric, both of them still burrowed beneath the bed sheets in the warmth. "It's me, Eric," Terry said into the dark as he felt his way along the wall. "Don't get up. I'm just going to the bathroom,"

Terry made his way to the bathroom to turn on the light, then to the closet for his suitcase. He grabbed his sleepwear and toiletries before going back to the bathroom, not noticing that Eric had woken up upon his arrival. "Shit," he muttered, still sleepy, buried in Michael's warm embrace. "Mikey…Michael, you need to wake up. Terry's back,"

"Hmm?" Michael murmured back.

"You have to go."

Michael turned over onto his back, allowing a wisp of exposed cool air to sneak in between them, and he breathed deeply in half sleep. "What time is it?"

Eric's wrist turned before his face, although he wasn't sure why he did that, considering he couldn't see very well. "Probably midnight, maybe later," he lowered his arm to prop up his head. "I don't want you to go,"

"Me neither," Michael pushed himself up into a sitting position, but Eric pulled him back. "You said I had to go," he protested half heartedly.

"I know, but just a few more seconds," Eric snuggled himself contently against Michael and held him tightly in his arms. "Mmm…you're so warm…"

It was hard to continue protesting, especially since they hadn't slept in the same bed together for the past three nights. This cozy catnap was too much of a tease, like the sight of a flower bud growing in the end of winter – the sight of spring oh so close, but oh so far away. "I better go," Michael carefully pried himself from Eric's grasp and began to crawl over him. His body shivered against the cold chill of warmth being exposed, and it gave a guarantee to ache and beg for thick blankets and –

"_Ow_! My leg!" Eric groaned.

Apparently, Michael had applied his weight atop Eric's wounded ankle, with his leg being bent at the knee and resting on a pillow. He grimaced at Eric's pain and tried to console him. "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean – "

"I know, I know, it just hurts again," Eric complained. He reached to grasp his ankle carefully, discovering that Michael already found it in the darkness, and was gently massaging the swollen injury. "You better go – "

"Eric, are you okay?" Terry's voice said from the bathroom.

"_Go!_" Eric told Michael urgently.

The bathroom door opened, not giving them time to discuss a plan or to even try to escape. Terry peered out into the room, half in sleepwear with his toothbrush in hand. "What are you doing, Eric?" he squinted into the room, which was barely lit up with the light from the bathroom. Clearly, he was looking right at Michael. "Mike?"

Michael started talking first. "Terry, I can explain – "

"Did you fall asleep in here, Mike?" Terry interrupted, still squinting. "Turn on a light in there,"

With a heavy sigh, Michael reached towards the bedside table lamp, blinding himself and Eric with the bright light. He turned back to Terry, whose hand was shielding his eyes as he appeared confused to find two of his friends, friends that use to date, in bed together. "He's just leaving," Eric said to the floor, squeezing his eyes shut against the light. "We were talking and we fell asleep. Thanks for staying, Michael, have a good night now,"

Terry looked back and forth between the two – Eric, who was wearing only an undershirt and pajama pants, and Michael's pants were gone and his sweater was off, his undershirt wrinkled and sweaty. "You were just…_talking_…and you fell asleep…for three hours?" he repeated in a slow voice.

"Yeah, sorry," Michael picked up his sweater and started to put it on, deciding against it, as he was still too warm, and went for the door. "Um…I'll see you two in the morning. Remember to set your alarm clocks, we're need to be downstairs for breakfast at seven if we're going to ski before we leave,"

"Mike?" Terry called to him; Michael turned around slowly with a guilty look on his face. "You know…if it's more comfortable for you two, I can go sleep in your room…"

Michael felt his face flush – first they had been caught, and now it was as if Terry was giving them permission to fuck! "No, Terry, we weren't doing…I'm just going to – " he felt completely baffled. How would we explain this?

Terry shook his head. "No, it's alright…I'll just get my things and go stay in your room. John won't mind," he went back into the bathroom to gather his toiletries and the rest of his sleepwear.

"I can go back to my room, Terry, you don't have to – " Michael tried to protest.

Despite Michael's denial, Terry returned with a smirk on his face that said he knew what was going on. "Um…we'll see you two downstairs for breakfast at seven…remember that now, okay?"

"Breakfast at seven," Eric repeated.

Terry let his eyes move around the room, seeing all of his clothes still on his bed. "You can throw all my clothes into my suitcase and I'll get it in the morning after breakfast," he paused, then shook his head. "What am I saying? You won't be in my bed _at all_,"

"Are you sure you don't want me to go?" Michael asked nervously, although he really didn't at this point.

"No, it's fine, you stay here…obviously Eric needs you more than he needs me," Terry assured him. When the other two didn't say anything, he nodded awkwardly at them and began to back up to the door. "Sleep well, you two…don't be too loud…goodnight," and he exited the room and shut the door, separating the newfound lovers from the rest of the group.

With a distressed groan, Michael sank back onto the bed. He had no idea how this was happening all over again, but then he felt the mattress move as Eric scooted closer to him and those long fingers touched the middle of his back. "He's going to tell everyone,"

Eric shook his head. "No he won't. It's not his business to tell and he knows that. Terry doesn't rat out anyone,"

"No, but it just shouldn't have happened, at least not like this," Michael told him, his hands on his head. "_Ohhh_ shit…everyone is going to _know_…"

"Don't worry a thing about it," Eric assured him, smoothing his hand up and down Michael's spine, back and forth, in a circle, any motion to try and remove the embarrassment from his lover's form. "We were together once and no one cared then, so why would it matter now?"

Michael straightened up and sighed heavily. "I didn't want anyone to find out this way…I'd rather them hear it from us. It would be better that way,"

"Terry won't say anything to anyone. He didn't the first time, and he won't this time. He knows how we feel about telling everyone about us. And because you're so anxious and scared and secretive about being caught…" Eric's hand moved over Michael's shoulder, down his arm, and captured his hand to lift gently to his mouth. "I find it rather cute…"

"Oh, you would get turned on, you pervert," Michael laughed as Eric's lips moved over his hand, and then to his wrist and up his forearm. "What are you getting at?"

Eric smiled at him – that condescending smile that Michael liked so much, for some reason. He knew this time, it wasn't meant to be mean or teasing, it was meant to be honest. "I am trying to get at that I would like to make love tonight, if that suits you just fine…you know, since we're awake now…"

He continued kissing up Michael's arm, shifting his body closer so he could continue up Michael's shoulder and to the back of his neck. Eric's arms wrapped around Michael, holding their bodies tightly together as his hands moved up under the front of his lover's shirt to rub his stomach gently. "Well…" Michael said in a low, quiet voice as Eric's mouth moved against his neck, and then he felt Eric's hands taking the bottom of his shirt and began to pull it up. "I suppose we could…"

Their clothes were gone and Eric was kissing between Michael's naked shoulder blades. He turned around and faced his lover, and Eric took his face in his hands and kissed him greedily. Eric laid Michael down on the pillow and climbed on top of him, kissing the bulge of his Adam's apple down his chest, tracing the dip in his stomach, running his fingertips up and down Michael's thighs as they wrapped around Eric. The heat was growing between them and neither could be more pleased with knowing that it was from being so close to each other _again_. Eric could see Michael's throat move as he swallowed; his hands moved up his lover's arms and not only could he feel the increasing heat, but he could also feel Michael's form trembling beneath his fingertips. Suddenly, Michael hunched forward to kiss Eric's chest, letting his lips brush through the soft fuzz of hair; a small kiss landed on top of his head, and he looked up to see Eric smile at him, a signal of permission. So they let their naked bodies melt back together – face to face, entangled in each other's arms and legs, and Michael's mouth smothered Eric's, muffling his sighs as their erections shoved together.

* * *

In the early daylight, Eric woke up cocooned in blankets, as he had the past mornings. It was as if he had woken from the most wonderful sleep, the heaviest, longest sleep of his life, and he felt wonderful. His arms reached over his head and his hands pressed against a cool headrest as he stretched, a murmuring noise escaped his mouth and he smiled at memory of last night. Once again, Michael was his, to take back home and love, to show off to everyone they knew…and then he realized that he was alone in bed. "Michael?" he said out loud, lowering her arms. Eric hoped that Michael hadn't left, that everything from last night hadn't been complete bullshit…

The toilet flushed and the faucet was turned on, followed by the sound of water splashing and then it was quiet. Eric watched the bathroom door open and he sighed with relief at the sight of Michael, who was rubbing sleep from his eyes and not wearing a damn thing. Michael's hand lowered back to his side and his eyes looked around the room until they located Eric still in the bed. "Morning," he said, his voice still thick with sleep.

"Morning," Eric sat up and rubbed his own eyes with his wrists, yawning loudly. "I thought maybe you had gone off already. Did the alarm go off already?"

"Not yet. We have ten minutes," Michael shook his head, slowly making his way through the clothes and various traveling items. He slid back in between the bed sheets, which were so warm and soft and comfortable to his skin that had cooled in the brief exposure when he went to use the toilet. Almost instantly, he was greeted by Eric's form, which was just as naked as his own and just as warm as he wished. "Mmm…" he murmured, smiling as he placed a sloppy kiss to the middle of Eric's stomach, just above his belly button, and continued them upward.

His breath moved the thin trail of light colored hair on Eric's body, tickling him and he bit his lip. "I seemed to have forgotten how you're always very happy in morning, although you have shown an occasional moody way. But you're nice and polite right now, so you must have slept well," Eric decided.

Michael's nose brushed against Eric's skin as he nodded. "Indeed, I did. It was probably the best sleep I've had in weeks," he licked lightly at the dip in Eric's chest, making his lover inhale sharply, and Michael tilted his head up to catch the thin lipped mouth in a kiss. A quiet murmur sounded between them, creating a vibration that tickled their mouths and they pulled apart.

"Are you ready to go back to civilization and face our lives once again?" Eric asked.

"Oh, _don't_ remind me," Michael groaned, melting against Eric's form with disappointment and he sighed heavily into the chest hair. "Can't we just stay here and forget everything back home?"

"I wish we could. But everyone else is leaving, and we wouldn't have a car to get around anywhere,"

"I just want to stay in bed with you. We can stay right here and order room service and sleep and fuck all day, every day. How wonderful would that be?"

"We would have to leave to use the toilet and bathe, unless you want us to dirty up the sheets. And we would have to change everything, because you know how I am about sleeping on clean sheets. I have to change them every other day, so why would I want to sleep on dirty sheets for longer than a week?"

Michael sighed, the sound heavy with disdain. "Oh, alright then, have it your way. Forget the idea of romance and all that lot. It's not like I'm asking for poetry and flowers, just to lie in a bed with you,"

Eric kissed Michael's forehead, the dark strands of messy hair tickled his face. "Now stop pouting and move along. We have to shower and be dressed before Terry comes back in here," he reached down and gently smacked Michael's cheek, making him squeak with excitement and he rolled off of Eric. "Are you done in the bathroom?"

"I suppose," Michael replied. "Should we bathe together?"

"We don't have time for that. I'm going to clean up and then you can have your turn," Eric crawled out of the depths of the bed, ignoring the almost shocking feel of cool air covering his body. He was glad to find that his injury felt as if it had never happened – maybe what he needed was to spend the night with Michael and that it was the cure to any pain he would ever have. _Perhaps I'll fall out of the car again when we get back home_, he thought to himself, a smile curled on the side of his face as he closed the bathroom door behind him and turned on the sink faucet.

When he was done washing his face, Eric stood at the sink, still completely nude, leaning close to the mirror to inspect the stubble growing along his chin. It was getting too long; he could feel it scratch against his fingers as they moved over his skin. He set up for his shave and began the work, making slow long strokes on his neck, then going to his face with quick short movements. Outside of the door, Eric could hear Michael lighting a cigarette and opening the window – "I hope you both are decent in here," Terry's voice sounded out.

Michael turned around, as he was kneeling on Eric's bed with his elbows on the window sill as he smoked his cigarette. "Yes, Terry, we are," he said.

"Good. I didn't want to come in and find you two doing something inappropriate. Not that you being naked by the window could be considered _appropriate_," Terry came into the room, his sweatshirt in hand.

"We weren't doing anything," Michael told him, and went across the room to the bathroom to open the door enough to look in. "Terry's here. He's getting his stuff,"

The razor went through the water, leaving behind tiny hairs and melting clumps of shaving cream. "Yeah, I can hear him," Eric replied, trying to keep his focus on not cutting himself as he moved over his chin – not so much luck. "_Ow_," he muttered, feeling the slightest cut form.

Michael opened the door a little further and leaned in. "Cut yourself?" he asked, concerned. Without waiting for an answer, he came into the bathroom and turned Eric's face towards him. "Right on your chin?"

Eric nodded, pretending it was so awful, yet he couldn't ignore the tiniest shiver that sped through him at the touch of Michael's hands. "Right there," he touched the spot with his finger.

Carefully, Michael turned Eric's head back and forth, examining his chin as if it was more than a cut, as if it also contained a large bruise and maybe a broken bone. "My poor love," he stood on tiptoe and gently kissed the cut, ignoring the bright red line it had become. "Better?"

"Hey, hey!" Terry shouted from behind them, making them both turn to him. "Wait until I leave, alright? I'm almost done…oh, and you _both_ are naked! Come on already!"

Michael let go of Eric's face."Sorry, Terry, but we weren't expecting you to push your way into the room like that,"

"Well, it _was_ my room too, until a bump in the night made himself at home," Terry continued to move around the room, picking up dirty clothes and tossing them into his suitcase. They knew he wasn't mad, the way he kept looking at them and shaking his head, a smile on his mouth that said he knew. "I'm just going to pack up my stuff and change. I'm not too worried about taking a shower – we'll all be crammed in the cars today, stuck together like licorice in a package, getting warm and sweaty, so there's really no point," he paused then, raking his hand through his hair, and he looked at them. "So…uh…I was wondering…you don't have to answer…"

"What are you asking? Because the answer depends on what you are asking," Eric replied, having turned back to his shaving.

There was a short pause, and then Terry shook his head. "Never mind, it was stupid," he zipped up his bag and pulled it off the bed. "Alright, I'm going downstairs. You two better hurry up and get breakfast before it's all gone,"

"Is everyone else awake?" Michael asked.

"The only other person I've seen is John, and he was going downstairs when I came in here," Terry went to the door, bag in hand, and he stopped halfway out of the room. "I surprised to see you two up and so cheerful so early in the morning," he grinned at their confused expressions.

Someone knocked on the door then and Terry moved for John to put his head in; he nodded at all of them. "They _are_ awake so early in the morning," he commented to Terry.

It was a mock surprise in his voice and it was easy for Terry to follow. "They were up very late in the night, weren't they, John? I'm sure they were banging each other like a screen door on a windy day,"

"I believe it was close to two when the pictures on the wall stopped shaking," John replied.

"What are you two talking about?" Michael asked.

Apparently, he had no idea, no genuine idea of what his friends were discussing. "Oh, you really don't get it, do you, Michael?" John teased. "And I'm sure you thought that we could believe Eric was giving you private voice lessons for half the night, right?"

Michael and Eric exchanged a look. "You could hear us?" Eric asked, realizing what his friends were saying. "Through the walls? You were listening?"

Terry laughed at his friends' astonishment. "We didn't really have much of a choice, as your room is right next to ours. And I have to admire your rhythmic capabilities, you two – I could write a song to the tune of the bed frame hitting the wall,"

"Oh, get out of here," Eric threw his wet washcloth in their direction.

John pulled the door closed to block it, and Terry ducked away; the door reopened. "Lucky we don't complain to the management. I'm sure you wouldn't want them to know what perversions you were up to, would they, Terry?"

"_I want_, _I want_, _I want_, _I want_ – " Terry was panting in response, imitating his friend's orgasmic prayer, beating his hands against the wall in a rhythm that matched the hours earlier. It was interrupted by their giggles as they left the room, shutting the door hard behind them.

Michael looked to Eric then, shaking his head in disbelief at their friends. "Can you believe them? A couple of – "

"That _was_ a pretty good imitation of you," Eric cut off Michael's words and went back to shaving.

"…I do _not_ sound like that. Clearly, that was you," Michael replied, coming back into the bathroom; he should have been showering and cleaning up the room for the trip home. However, he had found that Terry had been right about not bothering to clean up, and he closed the toilet lid and sat down to continue watching Eric shave. It was a habit that started when he was a boy, watching his father, and he had taken it up again with Eric the first time around. He could hear the razor scratch his neck and his eyes closed –

"Done," Eric rinsed off the razor one last time and set it on the side of the sink. He wiped his face with a towel, then turned to Michael. "Did I get it all?"

This part was the best part after a shave, in Michael's opinion; he stood up and moved between the sink and Eric, once again taking Eric's face in his hands and pulled him down to rub his own cheek against the smooth skin. Another habit from his childhood – sitting on the edge of the bathtub and waiting for his father to be finished so he could rub their faces together, to check for any stray hairs. And now, he did it with Eric, and oh, how good Eric felt – his skin slightly rubber like from being damp, _so smooth_. "Perfect," Michael whispered in Eric's ear and there was a gentle kiss on his own. "You feel absolutely perfect."

Eric kissed his mouth then. "You have to finish getting dressed – " he kissed Michael once more. "So go along to your room, and I'll be there in a moment," and he slipped through the bathroom door with a wink.

* * *

When they came down the stairs – Michael in corduroy pants and a long sleeved shirt, Eric in overalls and a thick pullover shirt, both with socks and shoes – they found their friends eating breakfast at the same long table they had eaten at for the weekend. "About time you two got down here," Neil announced their arrival. "Hurry up and get your food. John's getting antsy to go outside,"

Graham leaned over the table to look at Eric's feet as he came closer. "You're feeling alright today? No pain?"

"None," Eric took a seat next to Terry J; Michael at his side at the corner seat, with David at his left. "I feel absolutely fine today,"

A brief silence fell over the table, excepting the sounds of silverware on plates. Finally, Terry J looked to the other Terry, across the table and one seat to his left. "Did you ask them?" he managed to ask between mouthfuls.

Terry G grinned as he collected more toast, stretching across the table for the bread slices. "I started to, but then I realized that I really didn't _need_ to ask,"

"Ask who what?" Neil asked from Terry J's right, sitting at the end of the table.

"Go ahead and ask them," Terry J pushed the issue, nudging Terry's leg with his foot.

John and Terry G looked at each other and couldn't hold back their giggles, but then Terry was able to compose himself enough to speak. "Alright…alright, I'll ask," he cleared his throat and looked to his right at Michael and Eric. "Are you guys together again?"

Michael could feel his cheeks flush with being put on the spot like so, but Eric didn't seem bothered at all by the question. Most things like that didn't bother him anyway. "Yes, Terry, we are back together," Eric replied, already knowing that Terry knew, that he was asking for the sake of the rest of the table. "We decided to give it another go."

"_Give it another go_," John muttered under his breath, laughing to himself. Not that he was against the relationship, but the line just sounded so silly.

"So then…" Graham leaned towards his friends across the table. "Did you two fuck last night? Is that why you left us and went to go to bed so early?"

No one could hold back their laughter, a combination of nerves and hilarity, at Graham's question. Even Eric and Michael found it to be so silly, as they would _expect_ Graham to say something like that. "Well?" Neil asked as the laughter died down.

"Yes," Michael admitted shyly, almost blushing again when he could feel Eric's eyes watching him. "Yes, we…_fucked_ last night."

The response to that was a round of applause from their friends, which brought a fill round of embarrassment to Michael's face. "Oh, poor Michael!" David patted his shoulder roughly. "Your sex life is now on the table – "

"It usually is," Eric interrupted, a wide grin on his face, and everyone laughed again.

"Alright, now go get breakfast for yourselves. I know we want to spend a few hours outside before leaving, and we need to leave on time today instead of four hours later," John directed the two late arrivals, although the last part was mainly for Graham, who was the source of their lateness the day they arrived.

Breakfast was devoured and everyone went back to their rooms to gather coats and hats and their various outdoor clothing. "When we leave, are we taking the same cars as before?" Terry J asked as they came back downstairs.

"Let Michael and Eric ride in the same car together, since they're so in love now," Neil told him, teasing.

"Do you want to ride with the race car driver or with the fighters?" Michael asked Eric, both of them standing between the two cars.

"It doesn't matter because I'm sure I'll be asleep in minutes. You know how I am with car rides," Eric replied.

"That I do," Michael agreed. "Don't worry, I'll keep you awake. We have crosswords and newspapers and cigarettes. There has to be at least one thing to keep you awake in the car for the whole ride," he paused then. "By the way, where's the yo-yo? I couldn't find it earlier,"

Eric bit his lip. "Errr…"

Upon stepping outside, Michael then felt Eric kiss his cheek, and the tiniest chill went down his spine. Maybe it was the cold air, maybe it was the thought that he had a wonderful weekend holiday (or 'vacation', as Terry G called it) with his friends, and in a few days, he would be going to his parent's house for Christmas. Or maybe it was the knowledge that upon arriving back at home, he would have Eric all to himself again, and that kiss on the cheek was just the start of everything. "Come on now," Eric was saying, walking ahead of him. "I am insisting on receiving a blow job on the ski lift."

And everything was back to normal.

**THE END**


End file.
